At the Southeast’s key spot, the three Wus all meet up — since times old, Qiantang has flourished.
Smoke-esque boughs of willows, bridges painted up nice, curtains that block the wind, emerald-green tent veils — uneven are a hundred thousand homes leveled.
Sky-scraping trees wrap around canal sand, furious waves upturn snow — Heaven’s moat has no end.
Markets afringe with goods precious, households afilled with fabrics lavish — a competition in extravagance.

The layered lake, piled-up peaks, are exquisitely eminent, owning deep autumn’s osmanthus, ten li of lotus blooms. Qiang flutes play in clarity, caltrop songs float in nighttime, happy are the fishing gent and harvesting girl. Cavalry athousand hold fangs up high. Whilst tipsy, hear the xiao and drums, recite an appreciation for the mist — its portrait from a separate day will be gorgeous, so return to the feng’s pond and boast.

Original Text
东南形胜，三吴都会，钱塘自古繁华。烟柳画桥，风帘翠幕，参差十万人家。云树绕堤沙，怒涛卷霜雪，天堑无涯。市列珠玑，户盈罗绮，竞豪奢。
重湖叠巘清嘉。有三秋桂子，十里荷花。羌管弄晴，菱歌泛夜，嬉嬉钓叟莲娃。千骑拥高牙。乘醉听箫鼓，吟赏烟霞。异日图将好景，归去凤池夸。