English Rendering
The honking geese are gone to the north,
Just a boundless sky, puffy clouds torn.
Outside the north sills find yet some snow,
From the censer, long and still, a thin smoke.
The candlelight sees a puppet in gold paper,
nestled by my phoenix hairpin, shining in vain.
The dripping of water clock is often broken
by the Jin army horn blaring from beyond.
The stars are gone, nothing in the sky at dawn,
just the west wind to greet a foreign spring.
It’s not yet for the darling buds and bells.
My heart feels like water, in winter chill.