Literally: Birds call or don't call mountains, it's always calm. Whether the flowers fall or not, spring will always pass. Beautiful women come and go like floating clouds in the sky. No matter how beautiful and gorgeous the peony flower is, it will eventually wither, leaving only an empty branch.
Generally speaking, this poem still laments that youth is in a hurry and beautiful scenery is hard to stay:
The beauty of the whole city always hates that youth passes too fast, things change and you can't follow your inclinations.
Even if God is so kind to you, what about turning your life into a beautiful country?
I will never let your face bloom like a peony, and everything will follow the cause and effect.
I won't stay for a flower on the branch.
You always regret that beauty is fleeting, but you still smile.
Sit and watch the flowers fall in bloom before the court, and the clouds are rolling and the clouds are comfortable