The rolling waters of the Yangtze River pass 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 sunsets are red for several times, and fishermen and woodcutters with white hair 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.
