似花还是非花，
也无人借从教坠。
抛家傍路，
思量却是，
无情有思。
萦损柔肠，
困酣娇眼，
欲开还闭。
梦随风万里，
寻郎去处，
又还被莺呼起。
不恨此花飞尽，
恨西园落红难缀。
晓来雨过，
遗踪何在？
一池萍碎。
春色三分，
二分尘土，
一分流水。
细看来，
不是杨花，
点点是离人泪。
| Looking like flowers yet non-flowers.
You are pitied not but let fall like snow.
Roaming far away from your bowers.
To me, you are full of sorrow, senseless though.
Your tender heed is broken.
And your wistful eyes so tired
that they will not open.
Though you so much desired.
With the wind you have traveled so long a way.
In a dream so sweetly,
Hoping to find out where your lover might stay,
Yet quite unfortunately,
An oriole's cry makes your dream broken.
I grieve not for the flower flying out of my eye,
But for the red fallen petals in the west garden
Unable to be restored, I did sigh.
At dawn after the rain, where to be found
Their missing traces?
Only pieces of duckweed left in the pond.
Of the three graces
Of the colorful spring.
Two have turned into dust already,
And the other, water flowing.
I gazed at you more closely
Only to find you are not catkins of willow,
But tear-drops of the people parted in sorrow.
|
