The wind returns; my little courtyard is green and overgrown,
The willows seem to have grown again this spring.
I lean for a long time on the railings; alone, without a word,
The sound of bamboo and the new moon are just like in days gone by.
The playing and singing have not yet ceased; the wine cups remain,
The ice on top of the pool begins to melt.
Bright candles and a faint fragrance are deep in the painted hall,
It's hard to think I must allow my temples all to turn white.
By Li Yu
风回小院庭芜绿,柳眼春相续。
凭阑半日独无言,依旧竹声新月似当年。
笙歌未散尊罍在,池面冰初解。
烛明香暗画堂深,满鬓青霜残雪思难任。
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