English Rendering
There rise chirps of cuckoos, again they have come to call blossoms' end.
To seize spring, I longingly pick flowers' colourful remains.
Sudden rains and stormy winds the season of green plums commence.
Over the Yongfeng grounds, there's no one but drifting catkins all day.
Stroke not even a string, for it can such reticent bitterness express.
Unless the heavens mortal becomes, my love will never be laid to rest,
My heart is a cobweb doubled over, tied and knotted with a million frets.
The night is nearly over, the lamp has burnt out, the day hasn't broken yet.
