Tune: "On the Trail of Sweet Incense"
Golden chrysanthemums just in bloom
Tell of the approach of the Double Ninth Festival.
A bounteous gift from Heaven these autumnal tints,
Which however bring sadness in their train
As circumstances change.
I try on my thin dress, taste new-brewed wine,
Aware that I am in for
A spell of wind,
A spell of rain,
A spell of cold.
Yellowing twilight fills my rooms
With gloom and anxiety.
Memories of heartrending sorrow
Overwhelm me as I sober up from wine.
An unending night,
A full moon flooding an empty bed.
In my ears the dull thud
Of mallets on the washing blocks,
The feeble chirp of crickets,
The monotonous dripping of the clepsydra.
Tell of the approach of the Double Ninth Festival.
A bounteous gift from Heaven these autumnal tints,
Which however bring sadness in their train
As circumstances change.
I try on my thin dress, taste new-brewed wine,
Aware that I am in for
A spell of wind,
A spell of rain,
A spell of cold.
Yellowing twilight fills my rooms
With gloom and anxiety.
Memories of heartrending sorrow
Overwhelm me as I sober up from wine.
An unending night,
A full moon flooding an empty bed.
In my ears the dull thud
Of mallets on the washing blocks,
The feeble chirp of crickets,
The monotonous dripping of the clepsydra.
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