Recalling a Past Excursion to Wang Convent: Sent to Zaisheng
Human life consists of meetings and partings,
in the end but froth and foam,
Gazing back at the vast expanse, I am moved
by thoughts of our past excursion.
The morning dew had not yet dried, the blo-
soms were plentiful and firm,
The noon shade was about to settle, the songs
of the birds were hidden away.
Inhaling the fragrance around the little bench,
we were oblivious to the dusty world,
Walking in the moonlight, our pure talk swept
away all the old sorrows.
The slanting shadow of the plum blossom
looked just like a painting;
Who will gather up the tattered blossoms
strewn upon the ground?
Yì WángĀn jiùyóu jì Zài
Rénshēng jùsàn bēn fúōu
Huíshǒu cāngmáng gǎn xīyóu
Xiǎolù wèishōu huālì zhòng
Wǔyīn yùdìng niǎoshēng yōu
Wénxiāng xiǎozuò wàng chénshì
Bùyuè qīngyán sǎo jiùchóu
Méiyǐng héngxié yīng shì huà
Cányīng mǎndì yǒu shuí shōu