The Courtyard Desolate And Bleak Poem by East Sea Fairy Xing Yi

By LI Qingzhao Translated By East Sea Fairy

A wind gentle and a rain light
come hand in hand to call on the courtyard desolate and bleak,
where all the doors are closed tight.
The flowers are about to bloom; the willows grow green and sleek.
Approaching is the Cold Food Day. Oh! Here return the days annoying and freak.
Even after being sober up from a state of being in the eye bright
and having composed a poem by following a rule of rhyming hard and unique
I still feel that worries and woes me bitterly bite
for a host of my words is left unsent after the wild geese are gone on their southward flight.

In recent days I've been letting the curtain hung low,
since the room upstairs has been filled with early spring cool,
and too lazy I've been, to lean against the rail I haven't a chance to go.
Woke up from a nap I notice the incense has burnt out and cold feels the quilt of wool.
Already heavily loaded with melancholy cruel,
I feel this dreary sight makes it harder for me to have sound sleep quite.
Dark green are the new phoenix tree leaves. The morn dewdrops dribble and mewl.
They add spices to my mood for spring tours. Gone is the mist; the Sun is at its height.
Let me see if it's another day clear and bright.