English Rendering
Spring God is about to leave the Song capital,
taking the vibes of romance wasted behind walls.
The doors to my chamber find grass grown long.
By dusk, all messenger geese are quiet and gone.
My wandering eye beholds within a restless gloom
stirred by his absent presence in our upstairs room.
Love appeals even more when it is so painful,
making it even harder to forget and let go.
Another year, another Cold Food Festival,
a forgotten swing and a forgotten road
are covered in the rain of falling pear blooms
in an empty home under the rising full-moon.
