On and on, the autumn rain falls like tears,
Every drop filling my heart with anguish;
I look about, but no one do I know in the town,
Several times has my village lain in ruin.
Here, then gone, eight hundred years race by,
And no one knows who I am;
I lower my head as I light several sticks of incense,
Their smoke drifts away, towards old acquaintances.
Turning back, my wish fulfilled,
I shall come again to help all return.

September 11, 1997
at the hometown of Yue Fei