The green, fragrant grass is luxuriant along the southern road. Warm willow
seeds and scattered fallen flowers look listless as if they are filled with
spring sorrow like people. I remember during the Cold-food Festival my graceful
companion and I walked hand-in-hand and enjoyed the verdant scenery near the
capital.
Now it is springtime. I still travel far away from home. My sorrows seem to
be relieved quickly, but they soon return to my heart like entangled threads. I
wipe my tears in secret, but they cannot help falling again. I lean against the
banister of a tall tower all day. All I can see is the darkened green trees at
sunset. I have done my best to achieve what I can, but how can I forget the one
whom others say I should forget? I ask carp and wild geese to try again to bring
news of her to me.