The moon was coming
hibiscus was shy timid
tall bamboos shook their sparse shadows
I just knew it’s empty
The morning star had set
the crickets were chirping
the west wind blew to my thin fur coat
I began to feel cold and dreary
Returned to my native land again
the weak clouds and the clear river
the litchi forest was like fire red
the flowers in a mess
the human eyes were obsessed
I wanted to send lovesickness
the turbid wine and the cold glass
the reed bank as white as silver
the horse shoes were submerged
in the deep grass