The Yangtze River rolls eastward, and the waves wash away the heroes. Right and wrong, success and failure are all gone, but the green mountains are still there. The sunset is red several times, and white-haired fishermen and woodcutters are on the river. They are used to watching the autumn moon and spring breeze. They happily meet each other over a pot of turbid wine. Many things in ancient and modern times are all laughed at.
