The poem
Gold vessels of fine wines, thousands a gallon, Jade dishes of rare meats, costing more thousands,
I lay my chopsticks down, no more can banquet, I draw my sword and stare wildly about me:
Ice bars my way to cross the Yellow River, Snows from dark skies to climb the T'ai-hang mountains!
At peace I drop a hook into a brooklet, At once I'm in a boat but sailing sunward...
(Hard is the journey, Hard is the journey, So many turnings, And now where am I?)
So when a breeze breaks waves, bringing fair weather, I set a cloud for sails, cross the blue oceans!