Wind stopped, incense bunt to dust,
And flowers shed their petal over my desk,
Day is getting dark; I am weary to do up my hair.
All his things are still here, but he is gone,
It feels like everything is stopped,
Before my word comes out,
My tears already streamed out.
I heard about the beautiful spring scene
At the Couple Streams,
I want to row my boat there to see if it’s true,
But I am so afraid that my boat is too small,
And she can’t carry too much sorrow.
(By Li Qingzhao (1084
