Chongqing is extremely cold today, so cold it's unbearable. Suddenly, I thought, if Li Bai were in Chongqing at this time, would he write a poem about the cold weather? Everyone knows that the style of the poet Immortal Li Bai is bold and free-spirited, with a grand and expansive momentum. Since we are in Chongqing, there should be the steepness of the Bashan Mountains and the arrogance of frost pressing down.

I’ll try to compose a poem:

"Song of the Frozen Clouds of Bashan"

In Yuzhou, the great cold rises, the accumulated green condenses into cold mist. The shadowy wind cuts and shatters the face, flying frost enters the brocade feast. I wish to don my clothes and ascend Beibei, but I see the ice dragon lying across the long river. The waves of the two rivers turn into a jade mirror, and the sheer cliffs hang down three thousand feet.

In the morning, I drink the cold of the Jialing, in the evening, I get drunk on the summit of Daping. What is there to say about the rugged Shu Road? Just look at the ice and snow locking the heroic passes. How can I get a giant goblet to pour for the North Sea, calling for blazing flames to warm the mountains? I laugh loudly as I step out the door, who says winter cannot be climbed!