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Flowers fade and fall and fly about up in the sky,
But who pities the loss of your fragrance when you die?
花谢花飞飞满天，红绡香断有谁怜？
Like gossamer you float and land on pavilions,
With your fallen petals clung soft to fine curtains.
游丝软系飘春榭，落絮轻沾扑绣帘。
In my boudoir I sigh over the close of spring,
But there’s no way to express my sorrowful feeling.
闺中女儿惜春暮，愁绪满怀无处诉。
Spade in hand, I go out from under my fine curtain,
To and fro on fallen petals, how can I bear treading?
手把花锄出绣帘，忍踏落花来复去。
Willow twigs and elm buds send sweet scents as they may,
Who cares when peach and plum petals are in decay?
柳丝榆荚自芳菲，不管桃飘与李飞。
Next year peach and plum trees will be in bloom again,
But who will be the master of my boudoir then?
桃李明年能再发，明岁闺中知是谁？
In March lunar swallows have got their nests ready,
They on the beam seem to be those without mercy.
三月香巢初垒成，梁间燕子太无情！
Next year in their flight, fresh flowers they may peck, though,
All that they and I have will be lost, they never know.
明年花发虽可啄，却不道人去梁空巢也倾！
There are three hundred and sixty days in one year,
With you the elements of nature are severe.
一年三百六十日，风刀霜剑严相逼。
Time is not long for you to be bright and charming,
Your trace and track are hard to find in your drifting.
明媚鲜妍能几时，一朝飘泊难寻觅。
You are easy to see when open but hard when fallen,
Before the stairs I am worried where to find your remains.
花开易见落难寻，阶前愁杀葬花人。
Against the spade I lean and in secret weep sudden,
Splashed on your bare branches are my tears like bloodstains.
独把花锄偷洒泪，洒上空枝见血痕。
The cuckoo ceases its warbling at twilight,
With my spade I return and shut the doors tight.
杜鹃无语正黄昏，荷锄归去掩重门。
