English Rendering
In my fifteenth song the tempo of the melody quickens,
The spirit which rises in my breast, who understands its song?
I lived in a yurt with the nomads, their customs so different and strange,
I longed to return to my home, and Heaven granted my wish,
My return to China should be enough to gladden my heart.
But my heart is full of memories that feed my ever-deepening sorrow,
The sun and moon are impartial, yet they fail to shine on me.
The thoughts of children and mother separated are hard to bear;
Though the same sky is our canopy, we are like distant constellations,
Not knowing if one or another lives or dies, or where we might find each other.
