At dusk
boats moored at the willow ferry
A lone sail in the green water
its shadow turned into a cloud
Hugging a lute and sending rhyme
poems went into the dream
I concentrated on thinking friend
and to my heart the moon bright
At dawn
fragrance penetrated people in the orchid pavilion
On the winding path of the peach stream
the flying rosy clouds
I didn’t want to see the window
but the spring dazzling
No words to the mirror
tears wet a towel
Note:
Note: first, fourth, sixth and seventh sentences by Luo Zhihai.
Second, third, fifth and eighth sentences by Lǜ Fuxiang.
Translation by Luo Zhihai.