qiū tiān yǐ jīng kāi shǐ yōng jǐ lián dāo tí zháofēng
　　 ér wǒ yī zhí zhàn zài shān pō shǒu zhe niǎo míng dié chì
　　 shǒu zhe yè zǐ xiāo shòu shǒu zhe yī méi guǒ zǐ
　　 zhuì luò huò zhě chéng shú
　　 wǒ yào qiāoqiāo bǎ huáng hūn lǐng zǒu mǎ chē zhuāng lái xīng xīng de mèng
　　
　　 kě shì wǒ de ní tǔ qīn qī gāo liáng xiōng dì
　　 huó zài nǐ men zhōng jiān wǒ shì yòu fú de rén
　　 wǒ hèn wǒ bù shì yī dī yǔ yī zhèn fēng
　　 kě yǐ zhí jiē zǒu jìn nèi xīn zhǐ néng xiàng yī kē cǎo
　　 jǔ zhe lù zhū bù zhì yú zài yè wǎn zǒu shī

　　The autumn has begun to crowd in
　　as sickles carry wind in hands
　　I, however, keep standing on the hillside
　　watching birds singing, butterflies fluttering
　　trees thinning, and a fruit
　　ripen or fall. I’ll take away the dusk quietly
　　and load the carriage with dreams of stars
　　
　　My relatives of the earth and Kaoliang(*) brothers
　　Although I'm blessed as living among you
　　I mourn not to be a drop of rain, or a breath of wind
　　that can walk into your heart directly
　　only a grass holding dew beads
　　to prevent myself getting lost in the night
　　
　　* Kaoliang, a kind of crop that is widely grown in North China.