I can write no stately proem
As a prelude to my lay;
From a poet to a poem
I would dare to say.
For if of these fallen petals
Once to you seem fair,
Love will waft it till it settles
On your hair.
And when wind and winter harden
All the loveless land,
It will whisper of the garden,
You will understand.
笔涩词枯,难书华章
嚅嚅低语,肺腑一歌
残花增色,汝之笑颜
风衔落英,缀之青丝
凛冬又至,故土凋敝
愿北风送吾思,越塞北寄与京