YU  MEI  REN

                         —李煜

Spring flowers and autumn moon — when will they be ended?

　　How many past events can we tell?

　　The east wind blew through my small lodge again last night.

　　The old country, bathed in a bright moon,Is an overwhelming sight!

　　Those carved balustrades, those marble terraces —They should still be there,

　　Only the rosy cheeks have faded.

　　Like the spring torrent flowing eastward, without tarry!