On Mountain-climbing Day
- Poetry of Du Fu

I drink my wine alone on Mountain-climbing Day,

Though ill, I go up riverside tower and stay.

I cannot drink wine made out of bamboo’s green leaves;

Chrysanthemums not in full bloom, I think none grieves.

But black apes wail at sunset in a foreign land;

White swans will come before the frost without command.

Where are my homesick younger brothers and sisters dear?

War flames afar and nearing old age make me drear.