Classic Poem

Where is it, the sad lyre which follows the quick flute?
Down endless lanes where the cherries flower,
on a bank where the willows droop
The lady of the East house grows old without a husband.
The white sun at high noon, the last spring month half over.

Princess Liyang is fourteen,
In the cool of the day, after the Rain Feast,
with him behind the fence, look
Come home, toss and turn till the fifth watch
Two swallows in the rafters hear the long sigh.