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门掩黄昏，
无计留春住。
泪眼问花花不语，
乱红飞过秋千去。
Deep Courtyard
(To the Tune of Quetazhi)
Feng Yansi
Deep, deep is the courtyard.
How deep? Willows surrounding,
curtains upon curtains, too many
to count.
There,
he pulls up the magnificent carriage
by the courtesan quarters. Here,
I mount the tower, unable to see him
on the road of pleasure.
The wind and rain rages in late April.
The door closes in the dusk.
There is no way of holding the spring.
Tearfully, I ask the flowers,
who do not answer,
in a riot of red falling over the swing.
（裘小龙 译）
