Classic Poem

Clear and warm, the east wind on the path;
a humble bridge, then houses beyond the bank.
Last plum blossoms fall, one light petal after another;
among young herbs delicate flowers are found.
Several gulls, afloat, dot the water;
footprints on the sand suggest geese were there.
Just when I think of resting in a village coming up,
I see a banner for sake flap invitingly.