English Rendering
A lofty mansion towers in the northwest,
Its pointed roof with drifting clouds abreast.
O'er latticed windows hangs a satin blind;
Three stairways lead to spacious halls behind.
From upstairs come the sounds of lute and song;
How the music echoes sad and long!
Who on earth can play such painful tunes?
Has Qi Liang's widow been reborn so soon?
The Clear Shang tune resounds in evening breeze;
Half way through,it lingers o'er the trees.
One strike on the chord,then come three sighs
In depressed remorse and sobbing cries.
It's not her bitter lot that I regret;
I'm sad that bosom friends are rare to get.
Oh that we are a couple of wild swans,
Soaring to the skies ever on and on.
