| 英譯： |
Heavy dew. Thick mist. Dense grass.
Trees grow on the broken balconies. Willows choke the empty moat.
Fallen flowers litter the courts. The drunken parties are long gone.
At the fifth watch, under the waning moon, a nightingale is singing.
I dream of those perfumed lives that died in inconsolable grief.
The ancient palace is a heap of ruins. The road has vanished.
The landscape is the same. The works of men are being obliterated.
When I pass by the broken gate, my horse whinnies again and again.
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