Fleeting moments of life When we meet,
parting's just as tough,
East wind too weak, flowers fall enough.
Spring silkworms die, silk's exhausted and done,
Candle ashes formed, tears then begun.
Morning mirror worries, hair turns grey,
Nighttime chants, feels the cold moon's sway.
Pengshan, where we go, the road is few,
The blue bird keen, for a glimpse of you. |