It was a long time ago that I met her, but since we separated, the time has become longer, and the east wind has started and a hundred flowers have blossomed. Silkworms in spring will weave until they die, and candles will drain the wick every night. In the morning, she saw her hair cloud changing in the mirror, but she bravely faced the cold of the moonlight with her evening song. There are not many roads to Pengshan. Oh, Bluebird, listen! -Give me what she said! .
It's hard to see each other, and it's hard to part. Moreover, the weather in late spring, when the east wind is about to harvest, makes people feel even more sad. Spring silkworms don't spin silk when they die, candles burn to ashes, and tear-like wax oil can drip dry.
My wife dresses up in front of the mirror in the morning, only worrying that the plump hair will change color and the youthful face will disappear. Men can't sleep for long at night, and they must feel that Leng Yue attacks people. The other person's residence is not far from Penglai Mountain, but there is no road to cross, just out of my reach. I hope to have a messenger like a bluebird to visit my lover diligently and pass the news around.