The cows and sheep are moving slowly down,
niú yáng xià lái jiǔ
Each villager has shut his wicker gate.
gè jǐ bì chái mén
The wind and moon disturb the clear night,
fēng yuè zì qīng yè
This landscape of rivers and hills is not my homeland.
jiāng shān fēi gù yuán
A spring flows from the stones of a darkening cliff,
shí quán liú àn bì
The autumn dew drips on the grass's roots.
cǎo lù dī qiū gēn
My white head is within the brightness of the lamp,
tóu bái dēng míng lǐ
What need for the flower to flourish so?
hé xū huā jìn fán

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