| 英譯： |
Faces glowing from your wine, sir,
We savour the sound of the reeds,
Hua-niang, her hair in careful disarray,
Wakes from her sleep behind the screen.
Who cut the flute of Perfect Peace,
Bored these holes like stars in the sky?
Piercing and sudden, a wind opening blossoms,
It sends the clouds scudding through the heavens.
Tonight the flowers of our years are falling,
Breaking my heart for days beyond recall.
My passions surge as wild as waves,
I sit here startled time and time again.
The northerner rides on a white horse,
Grasping his sword with orchid-tasselled haft.
He is strong and quick as a wild monkey,
Yet catches fireflies in tumbleweed.
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