We climbed Yoyang Tower with　　all the scene around coming　　into vision； looking up the　　Great River seeing boats turn　　and enter the Tungting Lake； geese　　crying farewell to the river　　as they flew south； evening falling　　as if mountain tops upt up the moon　　with their lips； and we in the Yoyang　　Tower as if with heads amongst　　the cloud， drinking wine as if the cups　　came from heaven itself； then　　having drunk our fill there blew　　a cold wind filling out our　　sleeves， it seeming as though　　we were dancing in time with it.