From the branch she hears the flitting oriole’s cries through tears, the stains of new cries mix with stains of old weeping. All spring, neither fish nor bird bring any news, a thousand miles of hills weary the dreaming soul. Without one word she faces the fragrant wine cup, trying to repair her broken insides, all day until dusk. The lamp she just managed to light has burned out, rains strikes the pear blossoms outside the closed door.
3.65
Date: 2022-04-19 09:52 pm (UTC)枝上流鶯和淚聞
新啼痕間舊啼痕。
一春魚鳥無消息
千里關山勞夢魂。
無一語
對芳樽
安排腸斷到黃昏。
甫能炙得燈兒了
雨打梨花深閉門。
To the tune “Partridge Sky”
From the branch she hears the flitting oriole’s cries through tears, the stains of new cries mix with stains of old weeping. All spring, neither fish nor bird bring any news,
a thousand miles of hills weary the dreaming soul.
Without one word she faces the fragrant wine cup, trying to repair her broken insides, all day until dusk.
The lamp she just managed to light has burned out, rains strikes the pear blossoms outside the closed door.