Tender is your tears from a broken heart,
The pale crescent draws back my memories:
It was deep into the night and the moonlight turned frost,
Whoever was in her bower desperately cold?
Rain drops gently touch the crimson windows.
The pages of my story are blowed by the wind.
My dream turned fragrant vapor in a remote place,
And also vanished in the wind was your lovely face.
The chrysanthemums are withered,
and sorrowfully gather on the ground.
Your smile has already turned yellowish.
The blossoms' falling and my heart is broken.
All the memories emerge with my tears streaming.
Northern wind blowing and the night seems endless.
I just cannot forget your figure so dear.
You are gone and left me alone with my shadow in the lake.
The glittery blossoms have bid farewell to the bough,
In the dusk they are fluttering in the wind.
Our fate is unbearable in a languished world.
So we parted in the autumn and hearts were broken.
Don't cross the River if you are full of sorrow.
I fear that you would never get ashore and suffer a floating life.
Among the restless kights on their horseback who may be the king?
In my armours, I'm shouting and flighting relentlessly.
In the twinlight of the dawn, you sighed in whisper.
Melancholy was the night and you were so gentle.
The chrysanthemums are withered,
and sorrowfully gather on the ground.
Your smile has already turned yellowish.
The blossoms' falling and my heart is broken.
All the memories emerge with my tears streaming.
Northern wind blowing and the night seems endless.
I just cannot forget your figure so dear.
You are gone and left me alone with my shadow in the lake.