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Lot Essay
English translation of the poem:
Never again will her light step grace lakeside road,
Nevertheless, my eyes follow the fragrant dust that arise.
Whom is she spending her youthful years with,
On a crescent-shaped bridge, in a yard full of flowers,
behind red doors only known to spring?
The drifting clouds leave the grassy plains at dusk,
With a brush I write the broken hearted verses again.
How much idle melancholy can one hold?
A river of weeping weeds, a city of flying willow,
Drizzling rains as plums turn yellow.
Never again will her light step grace lakeside road,
Nevertheless, my eyes follow the fragrant dust that arise.
Whom is she spending her youthful years with,
On a crescent-shaped bridge, in a yard full of flowers,
behind red doors only known to spring?
The drifting clouds leave the grassy plains at dusk,
With a brush I write the broken hearted verses again.
How much idle melancholy can one hold?
A river of weeping weeds, a city of flying willow,
Drizzling rains as plums turn yellow.