Climbing high on the hill to gaze out to sea,
Six turtles’ bones now frosted, where are the three mountains flowing?
Fu Sang half-broken, white day sinks in light and color.
Silver platforms and golden towers like a dream,
Qin and Han emperors in vain.
Elite guards, exhausted by wood and stone,
Yellow-faced monkeys with nothing to rely on.
You do not see the beauty of the mountain, the lush valleys all turned to ash,
Shepherds’ children come to climb.
Thieves steal precious jade,
Elves can do nothing to stop them.
Poor soldiers and weapons now so weak,
How can one ride the flying dragons in the tripod lake?
Image: MidJourney/DALL-E 2