Rhododendron, an affectionate bird, sings all night;
Deep in the summer shade, look up at the flowing clouds.
Moths are like the light around the bright moon,
Starlight evacuation is like a fishing fire by the sea.
Rest in the dew pavilion on a sweet night,
He sang, he sang "cutting wheat and transplanting rice"—
The farmers set out at dawn.
Affectionate cuckoo, he always complains at night,
It is resentment and admiration, and his heart is full of love.
Full of bitterness, turned into a moving new song,
Tender feelings tremble in the arms of the silent night;
He sang, his mouth dripping with blood and covered with it.
Red grass tip, morning light
Gently shake the dream of the garden; His name is,
He called, and he called "I love my brother!" " "
The lonely pavilion closes the moon in Joan Hinton, and the cuckoo sounds in the setting sun.