Hearing the wind and rain while mourning for the dead,
Sadly I draft an elegy on flowers.
Over dark green lane hang willow twigs like thread,
We parted before the bowers.
Each twig revealing
Our tender feeling.
I drown my grief in wine in chilly spring;
Drowsy, I wake again when orioles sing.
In West Garden I sweep the pathway
From day to day
Enjoying the fine view
Still without you.
On the ropes of the swing the wasps often alight
For fragrance spread by fingers fair.
I’m grieved not to see your foot traces, all night
The mossy steps are left untrodden there.
听风听雨过清明，
愁草瘗花铭。
门前绿暗分携路，
一丝柳，
一寸柔情。
料峭春寒中酒，
交加晓梦啼莺。
西园日日扫林亭，
依旧赏新晴。
黄蜂频扑秋千索，
有当时纤手香凝。
惆怅双鸳不到，
幽阶一夜苔生。