In the autumn of Renxu, on the fifteenth day of the seventh month, Su Zi and his guest floated in a boat beneath the Red Cliffs. A gentle breeze blew, and the water was calm. Su Zi raised his cup to his guest and recited a poem about the bright moon, singing a graceful verse. Before long, the moon rose above the eastern mountain, lingering between the stars of the Big Dipper. The white dew spread across the river, where the water met the sky. Like a reed drifting aimlessly, it wandered through the vast expanse. It flowed as freely as the wind, without knowing where it would stop. It floated as if detached from the world, transforming into feathers and ascending to the heavens.
They drank and reveled in great joy, tapping the railing and singing. The song went, "With cinnamon oars and orchid paddles, we strike the empty brightness and follow the flowing light. Vast and boundless, my heart is filled with longing, gazing at the beautiful woman, the one and only in the sky." One of the guests played a melodious flute and harmonized with the song. The sound was mournful and yearning, like a cry, a lament, and a plea. The lingering melody continued without end. They danced like hidden dragons in a secluded ravine, weeping like a lonely boat's widow.
Su Zi, with a worried expression, sat up straight and asked his guest, "Why is it so?" The guest replied, "The moon shines brightly, but the stars are few. Isn't this a poem by Cao Mengde? Looking west towards Xiakou and east towards Wuchang, the mountains and rivers are intertwined, so vast and boundless. Isn't this about Mengde's hardships against Zhou Yu? After conquering Jingzhou and descending upon Jiangling, he sailed eastward with the current. With a thousand miles of ships and banners covering the sky, he enjoyed wine by the river and composed poems with a spear in hand. He was once a hero of his time, but where is he now? Moreover, here we are, fishing and gathering firewood on the banks of the river, companions of fish and shrimp, friends of deer and elk, sailing in a small boat, raising cups and gourds to each other. We are like mayflies in the vastness of heaven and earth, a tiny grain in the boundless ocean. I lament the brevity of my life and envy the endlessness of the Yangtze River. I long to soar with the immortals and embrace the bright moon until the end. I know that sudden gains are not to be sought, and I entrust my lingering echoes to the mournful wind."
Su Zi said, "Do you also understand the water and the moon? They pass by like this, yet never truly leave. They wax and wane like that, yet never truly disappear. If we observe them from their changes, even the heavens and earth cannot capture them in a single moment. If we observe them from their constancy, everything, including ourselves, is endless. So why should we envy? Moreover, between heaven and earth, everything has its master. If it is not mine, I will not take even a tiny bit. Only the clear wind on the river and the bright moon in the mountains, we hear them and they become sound, we see them and they become color. We can take them without restriction, use them without exhaustion. They are the endless treasures of the Creator, and we can both enjoy them."
The guest smiled with joy and poured another cup. The dishes and plates were in disarray after the feast. They lay down together in the boat, not knowing when the eastern sky would turn white.