Flowers fade and fly,

Flying fills the sky;

Their flowers left, their perfume disappeared,

However, who will sympathize?

Wandering hairspring

As you can see from the gazebo,

The falling catkins are stained with faint dew.

Tap the embroidered screen.

A girl is in the inner room,

I mourn the end of spring,

The veil of sadness binds my heart,

There is no comfort.

I walked into the garden,

I turned to use my hoe,

Trample on the lost glory

When I come and go gently.

There are willow branches and elm flowers,

These have enough fragrance.

I don't care about peaches and plums,

Stripped from every branch.

So are peach trees and plum trees.

It may bloom again next year,

But next year, in the inner room,

Tell me, should I stay?

On the third moon, a new fragrant nest.

Will see the light of day,

New swallows fly between the beams,

Go our separate ways.

They will look for food again next year.

Among the painted flowers,

But I may go, Liang may go,

Along with them are the swallow gazebo.

Three hundred days and sixty days.

A year, lurking there.

The dagger of the wind and the sword of frost

To do their cruel work.

How long can this beautiful flower last?

Which is brighter and glows?

One morning, its petals floated away,

But I went to a place where no one knew.

Gay buds attract attention,

Faded out of sight;

Oh, let me bury them sadly

Except for these steps tonight.

Alone, invisible, I grabbed my hoe,

With many bitter tears;

They landed on the bare trunk.

There was blood.

The nighthawk has stopped whining now,

Dawn comes quickly,

I grabbed the hoe and closed the gate.

Leave the burial place;

But it wasn't until the sun flooded the walls

Whether sleep soothes my worries,

The cold rain pattered against the window pane.

When I lay there trembling.

You want to know, in tears

My youthful cheeks are wet;

They stem in part from angry thoughts,

Partly because of regret.

Regret that spring came suddenly;

And anger, it can't last.

No voice announced its arrival,

Or warn us when it passes.

In the garden last night

There was a faint sad song,

As far as I know, it is sung by the soul.

Flower and bird elves.

We can't leave them here,

These beloved birds and flowers,

They sing, but in a seasonal space,

Bloom for hours.

If only I had feathered wings

May fly high,

I will look for the flower spirit

A room in the sky.

But at high altitude,

What grave is there?

No, give me an embroidered bag.

Put their charm in it,

Mother Earth, pure Mother Earth,

Hide them in her arms.

In this way, those beautiful figures appeared.

Will go again spotless,

And will not be stained by dirt and filth.

Along the dirty sewer.

Farewell, dear Floss, farewell,

So it was buried,

I haven't divined when I am

Sink into rest with you.

Who can bury flowers like this?

A laughing stock;

I can't say that in the future.

What kind of hand will bury me.

Look at when spring begins to die.

Every blooming flower will wither;

There are also mature times.

The death of a beautiful girl;

When the short spring is gone,

Beautiful days have passed,

Flowers wither, lovely girls die,

Both are no longer known.

Guan Ju

Guan Guan Luo dove,

In Hezhou.

My beautiful lady,

A gentleman is a good man.

Serrated shepherd's purse,

Flow from left to right.

My beautiful lady,

Charm, asking for it.

I'd love to,

Charming and thinking.

It's an honor,

Tossing and turning.

Serrated shepherd's purse,

Take it from left to right.

My beautiful lady,

Friends of the harp.

Serrated shepherd's purse,

Left and right hair.

My beautiful lady,

Music of bells and drums.

Grumbling and courtship

Translated by Xu Yuanchong

Whispering by the river

A pair of turtledoves;

An excellent young man is pursuing

A beautiful girl he loves.

Water flows left and right

Cress is long here and short there;

Young people yearn day and night.

For the beautiful girl.

His desire became so strong,

He can't sleep,

But all night long, trouble sleeping,

Love so deeply, so deeply!

Now gather to the left and right.

Cress is long or short, tender!

Oh, lute, play cheerful music.

Dedicated to the sweet and slim bride!

Banquet around friends.

Boil the cress until it is tender!

Oh, bells and drums, happy

The bride is so sweet and slim!

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