to the tune of Light Pink
Peonies fade and die in the courtyard dark and deep,
But I have no heart to hold up the curtain to watch the scene.
The apricot garden is no longer music and songs to keep.
In the shade of the trees green,
Orioles chirp, seeming worried for the passage of spring.
Still upsetting me are the parting feelings so strong,
I bear not this lovesickness for long,
Alone, standing by the low balustrade with head hung.