"A wisp of fragrant soul dispersed with the wind and fell asleep at a sad night" is a poem describing the death of Daiyu in A Dream of Red Mansions, written by Cao Xueqin and describing the death of Lin Daiyu.
Original text:
Funeral songs
Flowers fade, flowers fly all over the sky, who pity the red incense? The spring pavilion floats softly, and the falling wool touches the embroidered curtain.
The daughter in the boudoir cherishes the twilight of spring and looks sad. Hoe flowers out of embroidered curtains with your hands and endure falling flowers again and again?
The pods of willows and elms come from wheat straw, regardless of whether peaches float with Li Fei. Peaches and plums can be delivered next year. Who do you know in the boudoir next year?
The fragrant nest has been built in March, and Liang Jianyan is too heartless! Although you can peck flowers and hairs next year, it is not easy for people to go to the empty nest.
360 days a year, the wind and sword are threatening. How long will it last? Once adrift, it's hard to find.
Flowers are easy to see but hard to find, and those who bury them suffocate in front of the steps. I only shed tears when I hoe incense, but I saw blood stains on the branches above.
The cuckoo was silent at dusk, and the lotus hoe returned to cover the heavy door. When the blue light shone on the wall, people began to sleep, but the window was not warm.
Complaining is double the pain? Half out of pity, half out of trouble. Flow spring suddenly to bother, and to silence.
Last night, I sent a sad song outside the court, knowing that it was the soul of flowers and birds. The soul of a flower and a bird is always hard to stay, and the bird is ashamed of itself without words.
I hope to grow wings under the threat of Nong and fly to the end of the sky with flowers. After all, where is Xiangshan?
Hide the wind without a trick. It's better to be clean than trapped in a ditch.
I am going to die and be buried, but I don't know when Nong will die. The man who buried the flowers is laughing today, but who did he know when he buried them?
Let's see the residual flowers of spring gradually falling, which is the time when beauty dies of old age. No sad songs for me, I don't know what happened!