English Rendering
Recollections of the West Pond come to me, how we drank in the pond,
Year after year, how we had many a joyful moment.
Since our parting, you have not so much as sent my way a note,
When we do come across each other on occasions,
I cannot even sense goodwill that a new acquaintance usually holds.
I've prepared a bed of embroidered quilt hoping for a good night's dream,
So as to allow me to the rivers and lakes cross.
In my wistfulness how could I consider where it would lead me towards?
For I know once spring has gone,
There is no one to prevent blossoms from drifting to their fall.
