Long Live

Zhang, Xian (990 A.D.-1078 A.D.)

    The cuckoo's song announces the end of flowers' fragrance. I pluck one of the last blossoms to treasure Spring. The drifting rain and ferocious wind herald the season that bears green plums. In quiet Yong-feng 1 Park, the fluffy willow seeds, like snow, dance in the air all day. I should not strum the strings. When I lament to the extreme, the zither can talk. The sky will not grow old. It is difficult to end my love. My heart, intertwined with yours like a pair of tangled webs, has a thousand knots. The night is almost gone. The lonely lamp has been extinguished. The eastern window is not yet bright. 2

1 Yong-feng is the name of a street in Lo-yang City.

2 The last three sentences hint that the poet has not slept all night.