In our pavilion my
flutist can't be found, Leaving the scene of royal garden unenjoyed, The
pink and golden flowers nodding to the ground. By the east wind I feel
annoyed; It brings but half spring fragrance round.
The dreaming
window keeps the sun's departing rays. How I regret those bygone
days! With railings green a weeping willow plays. We met only to
part; It's like a dream in vain to keep in heart.