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.