A small courtyard and lattice window, the spring colors are vivid. The double blinds are not lifted, shadows gather deep inside. She leans on the balcony, saying nothing, plucking a pearled zither.
A distant cave emits clouds, hurrying the onset of dusk, a light wind brings rain, rippling the sparse shade. The pear blossoms will soon wither—no preventing it, I fear.
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3.10
Date: 2022-01-29 10:57 pm (UTC)小院閑窗春色深。
重簾未捲影沈沈。
倚樓無語理瑤琴。
遠岫出雲催薄暮 細風吹雨弄輕陰。 梨花欲謝恐難禁。
To the tune “Sands of the Washing Stream”
A small courtyard and lattice window, the spring colors are vivid. The double blinds are not lifted, shadows gather deep inside. She leans on the balcony, saying nothing, plucking a pearled zither.
A distant cave emits clouds, hurrying the onset of dusk, a light wind brings rain, rippling the sparse shade. The pear blossoms will soon wither—no preventing it, I fear.