English Rendering
Ⅰ
Since I came to Huangzhou,I've passed
Three Cold-food days devot'd to fast.
Each year I wish fair spring to stay,
But spring will go without delay.
This year again we suffer from rains,
For two months dreary autumn reigns.
Lying in bed,I smell crab-Apple flowers,
Upon whose rouge and snow mud showers.
The rouge has taken stealthy flight,
Borne away by the Strong at midnight.
The snow is like a sick youth's head
Turning white when he's up from his bed.
Ⅱ
Spring flood is coming up to my gate,
My small cot looks like a fishing boat.
The pouring rain will not abate,
My cot on misty waves wiil float.
I cook food in a kitchen in decay
And burn wet reeds in a cracked stove.
Who can tell'tis the Cold-food day
But for the money-paper burned above?
The royal palace has gate on gate;
My household graves far away lie.
At the road's end I'd lament my fate,
But dead ashes blown up cannot fly.
