Last spring, in this door, the girl's face contrasted with the peach.
Wherever people go now, peach blossoms are still smiling in the spring breeze.
Cui Hu Qingming went to see the house outside the city alone, met a civilian and lent him water to drink. The two men looked at each other. The next year, I went to look for it, and the door was locked. So I wrote this poem on the door.