English Rendering
Spring flowers and autumn moon, O when will all these end?
How much of my past I comprehend?
Last night, to my loft once more, the vernal east wind came;
In moonlight, I could not bear to look back towards my homeland rid of my name.
Jade steps and carved railings may still as ever be there,
Though changed are the faces fair.
O how great, how grave, I ask, can my woe and sorrow be?
Just like the River’s swelling spring-tide waters rolling east to the sea.
Translated by Andrew W.F. Wong (Huang Hongfa)
