Background information and explanation
In the wind, we sway like the turning white reeds.
We are slowly vanishing in the wind of autumn water and reed catkins.
When we rise, slowly hovering up with the evening mist.
The low-lying moon and stars attend by our route.
Fly, fly, fly.
The cold waves slowly whiten our wings.
We rise, keep counting and singing the passing by scenes.
The green mountains and field, the clear flowing waters, the erecting long bamboos.
We chant the lonesome and cold feel is as wide as the ground and as high as the sky.
We watch faces of the mountains and rivers gradually die away and become wisps of clouds and mist.
Connecting to music score.