Alone I stand in the autumn cold 
On the tip of Orange Island, 
The Hsiang flowing northward; 
I see a thousand hills crimsoned through 
By their serried woods deep-dyed, 
And a hundred barges vying 
Over crystal blue waters. 
Eagles cleave the air, 
Fish glide in the limpid deep; 
Under freezing skies a million creatures contend in freedom. 
Brooding over this immensity, 
I ask, on this boundless land 
Who rules over man's destiny?
I was here with a throng of companions, 
Vivid yet those crowded months and years. 
Young we were, schoolmates, 
At life's full flowering; 
Filled with student enthusiasm 
Boldly we cast all restraints aside. 
Pointing to our mountains and rivers, 
Setting people afire with our words, 
We counted the mighty no more than muck. 
Remember still 
How, venturing midstream, we struck the waters 
And waves stayed the speeding boats?                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    