Tranquil winter winds blow across my face, amidst a desolate frozen landscape. The Eastern Watershed mist stretches far into the distance. In the midst of this serene atmosphere, I have caught a multitude of fish, and my boat is overflowing with them.
When the winter solstice arrives in Xiang, the countryside villages' stove pipes blow forth warm smoke. The mountains dance, and the lotus pond lies still, its lingering fragrance teasing me...
Your inspiration clears the clouds, Your poem vane opens the road.