Tune: “Ripples Sifting Sand”
The curtain cannot keep out the patter of rain,
Springtime is on the wane.
In the deep of the night my quilt is not cold-proof,
Forgetting I am under hospitable roof.
In my dream I seek for pleasures vain.
Don’t lean alone on the railings
And yearn for the boundless land!
To bid farewell is easier than to meet again.
With flowers fallen on the waves spring’s gone again,
So is the paradise of men.