Outside the blinds, the wind at the last watch blows my dream away, leaving no trace. Again I climb the painted loft, to be with whom? I recall using a jade hairpin to tap the incense clean, until the precious seal character burned into nothing. I look back toward the purple-gold peaks, as rains soak everything and the mist thickens. The spring river waves flow between drunkenness and sobriety. The tears of former days, still left on my silken lapel, I would send aloft to the migrating geese.
3.53
簾外五更風。
吹夢無蹤。
畫樓重上與誰同。
記得玉钗斜撥火 寶篆成空。
回首紫金峰。
雨潤煙濃。 一江春浪醉醒中。
留得羅襟前日淚
彈與征鴻。
To the tune “Waves Scour the Sand”
Outside the blinds, the wind at the last watch blows my dream away, leaving no trace. Again I climb the painted loft, to be with whom?
I recall using a jade hairpin to tap the incense clean, until the precious seal character burned into nothing.
I look back toward the purple-gold peaks,
as rains soak everything and the mist thickens.
The spring river waves flow between drunkenness and sobriety.
The tears of former days, still left on my silken lapel, I would send aloft to the migrating geese.