| 英譯： |
The sound of the fifth watch from the clepsydra hurries the dawn.
The peach blossoms blush as if they had drunk too much sprin wine.
Embroidered dragons move on the banners in the warm sunshine, High
above the palace halls, swallows fly in the light breeze. Leaving the
audience, you carry the fragrance of incense in your sleeves; Writing
poetry, you let sparkling thoughts run rapidly from your pen. Men
are wont to call the Secretarial Division the Phoenix Pond, We are
proud of two generaions of literaray phoenixes: first the father, now
the son.
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