Riverside Daffodils

Awake from dreams, I find the locked tower high;Sober from wine, I see the curtain hanging low.As last year spring grief seems to grow.Amid the falling blooms alone stand I;In the fine rain a pair of swallows fly.

I still remember when I first saw pretty Ping,In silken dress embroidered with two hearts in a ring,Revealing lovesickness by touching pipa’s string.The moon shines bright just as last year;It did see her like a cloud disappear.