Reflections on the Ancient Red Cliff--To the tune of Niannujiao

The Great River flows,
Eastward waves sweeping away,
For thousands of years, gallant heroes.
West of the ancient fort, they say, stands
The Red Cliff of the Three-Kingdoms' Duke Zhou.
Rocks pierce the sky, shore-tearing
Waves swirl into piles of snow.
What a glorious sweep of land,
Once a stage for so many a hero!

My thoughts drift to those years when Zhou
Had newly married the beautiful Qiao,
Vigour and valour aglow.
A feather fan and a silken hat,
He masterminded the fire-attack on the foe--
Over a casual chat
To see their fleet perish, blow by blow.
Back from my mental vagrancy in that bygone age,
I must laugh at myself: letting sentiments grow
Into grey hairs, too soon.
But isn't life a dream, after all？
Let me pledge this cup to the River,
To the Moon.

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