The sun sets over the garden swing and curtained bower;
Within embroidered doors my pen’s made verse with ease.
Red apricots fade over the wall after the shower;
Green willow catkins out of doors waft in the breeze.
Where is my morning cloud leaving nor word nor trace?
She must have gone into another’s vernal dream.
My piebald horse still knows my old-time roving place;
It neighs on passing painted bridge over eastern stream.
秋千庭院重帘暮,
彩笔闲来题绣户。
墙头丹杏雨余花,
门外绿杨风后絮。
朝云信断知何处?
应作襄王春梦去。
紫骝认得旧游踪,
嘶过画桥东畔路。