| 英譯： |
YEAR after year the ancient spring endures,
An idle green caressed by the warm clouds.
Scent of pines and evening blossoms flying,
As willow islands swallow the darkling sun.
The pebbly sand is strewn with tumbled reds,
Round stony founts wild celery is growing.
Lonely bamboos are painted with new powder,
Moth-green mountains bar her gates at dawn.
Fragile orchids cannot bear the dew,
Hills soar on high, sad in their lonely spring.
Her dancer's gems are clipped from simurghs' wings,
The curtain sashes streaked with dainty silver.
Orchid and cassia breathe their heady perfume,
Water-chestnut, lotus-root, heaped as offerings.
Gazing at the rain, she meets Jade Lady,
Borne in her boat, encounters the River Lord.
Playing her flute, a little drunk with wine,
She knots her girdle, smooths her gold lame skirt.
Roaming the heavens, she chides at her white deer,
Wandering the waters, whips her bright-scaled steed.
Thick hair has fallen now from her coiffure.
Petals stuck fast upon her glossy checks.
Spiders have wrought webs in her whorled tresses,
Spun toils about her eyebrows, her delicate lips.
Playing with butterflies, a gentle, graceful beauty,
Her slender body shrinks from wind and sun.
Gold ducks shiver on the gloomy door-curtains,
A phoenix gathers dust in her vanity-box.
Treading the mist, she's borne home on the breeze,
Her tinkling jades heard on the mountain-top.
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