The poem "On the River" tells the picture described in the poem in its own words.

The autumn shade in Jiangbei is half open, but the sunset glow is rainy but low.

There is no road in the green hills, and there is another village. Suddenly, I saw Qian Fan looming.

On the morning of autumn, the sky on the north bank of Hebei is gloomy, and low dark clouds wander in the sky with rain, and the rain is uncertain. I don't want the green hills on the other side. The mountains are winding and the water is winding. I can't help but feel confused. Where is the road? Suddenly, countless white sails loomed in the shade of the mountain forest.