“Spring returns to my lonely chamber, Once more spring grass is lush and green. Some red plum blossoms are open, Others have yet to bloom. I grind tea bricks into fine jade powder In a pot carved with azure clouds, Still under the spell of the morning's dream, Till all of a sudden I am woken By a jug of spring. Flower shadows press at the double gate, Pale moonlight silvers the translucent curtains. A beautiful evening! Three times in two years We've missed the spring. Come back without further ado And let's enjoy our fill of this spring!” PoetryLonelinessChineseClassicMelancholyReminiscence Author:Li Qing Zhao
“Last night there was intermittent rain, a gusty wind. Deep sleep did not relieve me of The last effects of wine. I ask the maid rolling up the blinds, But she replies: "The crab-apple is lovely as before." "Don't you know?" "Oh, don't you know?" "The green should be plump and the red lean?” PoetryNostalgiaChineseClassic Author:Li Qing Zhao