![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I just came across this in my Chinese poetry book.
to the tune of Tieh Luan Hua by Feng Yen-ssu
Who says that this idle feeling has long been left aside?
Whenever spring comes, my melancholy returns as before.
Every day, before the flowers, I'm ill with too much drinking,
Yet dare I refuse to let my image in the mirror grow thin?
O you green grass by the river and willows on the dam,
Pray tell me: why does new sorrow arise with each year?
Alone on a little bridge I stand, my sleeves filled with wind;
The new moon rises above the woods and everyone else is gone.
to the tune of Tieh Luan Hua by Feng Yen-ssu
Who says that this idle feeling has long been left aside?
Whenever spring comes, my melancholy returns as before.
Every day, before the flowers, I'm ill with too much drinking,
Yet dare I refuse to let my image in the mirror grow thin?
O you green grass by the river and willows on the dam,
Pray tell me: why does new sorrow arise with each year?
Alone on a little bridge I stand, my sleeves filled with wind;
The new moon rises above the woods and everyone else is gone.