To the tune of "Rinsing Silk Stream"
Saddened by the dying spring, I am too weary
to rearrange my hair.
Plum flowers, newly fallen, drift about the courtyard
in the evening wind.
The moon looks pale and light clouds float
to and fro.
Incense lies idle in the jade duck-shaped burner.
The cherry-red bed-curtain is drawn close,
concealing its tassels.
Can Tung-Hsi's horn still ward off the cold?
Ah, pure delight! If threre's a perfect fragrance, then it's the soft melancholy of this faraway meadow...!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The pain of the poetess can be seen from some of the verses like: The moon looks pale and light clouds float to and fro........Heartfelt.100+