The flowers withered and locked in the heavy building,

The spring stream has been slid by the wind.

The west wind blows down the grass, flowers and trees,

After a year of winter, it’s coming again.

Pick up the red leaves to write about your thoughts,

The emotions are transformed into water and stronger than wine.

You have no meeting in the world,

Walking alone in snow.

The bamboo is a wall under the moon in thatched hut,

The red plum blossoms bloom like your face.

It seems like the ambergris is coming,
Chapter completed!