English Rendering
In the end of the year on Southern shore
When early mume blossoms disappear,
The newcome spring dwells on the weeping willow tree,
Its slender waist reveals a personality free,
And what is more,
Its trunk appears more elegant and freer.
Along the way
There are no sight-seers all the day.
Who'd come to see your golden thread in sunlight sway?
Your heart would break to see catkins fly,
Your green leaves make a shade of deep dye.
Having nothing to do,
You would grow thinner,too.
If you come again with vernal breeze now,
It would dispel the vernal grief on your brow.
