Deep in Winter
Flower in the leaves, only as heaven pleases:
From Yangtze to brook, the same roots of stone.
Red cloud of morning's shadow likenesses:
The cold water on each touches its scar.
Easy, Yang Zhu, to shed your tears:
Exile of Chu, hard to call back your ghost
The waves in the wind are restless in the evening.
I put down my oar to lodge in what man's house?
From Yangtze to brook, the same roots of stone.
Red cloud of morning's shadow likenesses:
The cold water on each touches its scar.
Easy, Yang Zhu, to shed your tears:
Exile of Chu, hard to call back your ghost
The waves in the wind are restless in the evening.
I put down my oar to lodge in what man's house?
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