今又重陽，戰地黃花分外香。Now it comes again: the scented chrysanthesum blossoms on the battlefield.

一年一度秋風勁，不似春光。The annual autumn wind roars, not as gentle as that of spring.

勝似春光，寥廓江天萬里霜。 It is better than the spring—the immense skies with white frost over the river.

PS: Time flies, and the lunar Double-Nineth Festival comes again. The outlook for revolution was bleak, and he also encountered setbacks in the party when Chairman Mao wrote this poem, in which he still presented an enthusiastic mood towards the future.