The Boundless Fallen Leaves Rustle Down: The Medical Examiner

The wind is fierce, the sky vast, and the apes cry mournfully; over the clear islet and white sands, birds wheel back.

Endless leaves fall with a rustle, while the mighty Yangtze rolls on without end.

A thousand miles from home, I grieve through autumn as a perpetual wanderer; sick for years, I climb the terrace alone.

Hardship and bitter sorrow have frosted my temples, and in my destitution I have just given up my cup of muddy wine.