Floating in the water! The east wind at night scatters a thousand trees of blossoms, And blows down more, stars like rain. Luxury carriages and fine horses fill the road with fragrance. The sound of phoenix flutes stirs, and the light in jade pots turns, A night of fish and dragon dances. Moths, snowy willows, and golden threads, Laughter and chatter, faint fragrance drifts away. Searching for him among the crowd a thousand times, Suddenly turning my head, he is there, Where the lights are dim.
Leaning on the tall tower, the wind is gentle, I gaze as far as spring sorrow reaches, dimly arising at the horizon. In the remnants of sunlight over grass and mist, silently, who can understand the feeling of leaning on the railing. I plan to indulge in a wild spree, singing to wine, yet forced pleasure still tastes bland. My belt gradually loosens, but I do not regret it, becoming haggard for her sake.
The brocade zither has fifty strings for no reason, each string and peg evokes memories of youthful years. Zhuangzi's morning dream confuses him with butterflies; Emperor Wang's spring heart entrusts its longing to cuckoos. The moon over the boundless sea reveals tears in pearls, the warm sun over Lantian jade gives off smoke. This feeling could be recalled to reminisce, but at that time it was already lost in confusion.
