Press Ctrl + D (Windows) or ⌘ + D (Mac).
Joyful Transition Oriole: Moon Waves Seem to Drip
Gazing up, the jade pot heaven feels so near, untouched by earthly dust.
Kingfisher eyes circle blooms, ice-silk threads weave white damask, while stellar pathways align their precious beams.
Pity my poetry-thinned frame, my wine-worn soul, unable to embrace such overwhelming spring.
Most wayward of all:
once trailing fragrance and chasing candlelight, I kept company with wild roisterers.
Footprints.
Forgotten memories now.
Du Lang has grown old; how can he bear to hear the east wind's flute?
Willow gardens where lamps burn thin, plum halls where lingering snow remains—who is left to pour for me the emerald spring wine?
Old passions still unbound, I find myself reliving those youthful wanderings.
Yet I fear, terribly, that I might fail the jade-fair one waiting by the cold night curtain.
望玉壺天近,了無塵隔。
翠眼圈花,冰絲織練,黃道寶光相直。
自憐詩酒瘦,難應接、許多春色。
最無賴,是隨香趁燭,曾伴狂客。
蹤跡。
謾記憶。
老了杜郎,忍聽東風笛。
柳院燈疏,梅廳雪在,誰與細傾春碧。
舊情拘未定,猶自學、當年遊歷。
怕萬一,誤玉人、夜寒簾隙。
Looking jade pot heaven near, entirely no dust partition.
Kingfisher eyes encircle flowers, ice silk weaves white damask, yellow path precious light mutually straight.
Self pity poetry wine thin, hard accommodate, so many spring colors.
Most unruly, is following fragrance chasing candles, once accompanied mad guest.
Footprints.
Vainly remember.
Aged Du lang, endure hearing east wind flute.
Willow courtyard lamp sparse, plum hall snow present, who with fine pour spring jade.
Old affections bound not yet fixed, still self learning, that year wander travel.
Fear ten thousand one, mistake jade person, night cold curtain gap.