I traveled / through Jiangnan
The face waiting / in the season / is like the blooming and falling of the lotus
If the east wind / does not come, the catkins of March will / Not flying
Your heart/is like a small/lonely/city
Just like the streets of bluestone/Xiangwan
The sound of the feet/does not ring, The spring curtains of March are not uncovered
Your heart is a small window that is tightly closed
My horse hooves are a beautiful mistake
I am not a returnee, but a passer-by...
Zheng Chouyu’s mistakes will be liked by girls.