Du Fu (712-770))

Ascending High
.
The wind swift, heavens high
gibbons sadly scream;
The holm clear, sand so white
birds circling soar.
Boundlessly
falling leaves tossed rustling down;
Endlessly
the Long Jiang keeps rolling along.
Myriad leagues mourning Fall
forever the wanderer;
My whole life manifold ills
a lone terrace climber.
Hardship, mishap
I bitterly resent my frosty brow:
Depressed, downcast
I just quit my cup of murky brew.