Seven Quatrains: Remembering Chrysanthemums
Original
Byu Yin
Halfway through the night, gazing at the distant windows, I've spent many a time in phantom dreams.
The moon shines on the banks of Yue Ming Lake, autumn's beauty cannot be subdued, do you, my lord, understand the blooming flowers and bamboo fences?
The distance between roads is long, people depart and vanish far away, the clouds drift, and the wild geese return late.
The red curtain is half-drawn, revealing a faded complexion, in poetry and wine, we'll meet again for a date.
Original
Looking wistfully at the west wind, carrying my melancholy thoughts, at the time when the (létīng – red) and (wěibái – white reed) bring a poignant sadness.
In the empty courtyard and old fields, autumn has left no trace; do you know if dreams linger in the cold moon and frost?
My heart follows the departing geese, and my thoughts are quiet as the evening bell tolls late.
Do you pity me, a lonely, fading flower? Will words of comfort come with the Heavy-Yang Festival (Mid-Autumn Festival)?
