Flowerfair lanterns lit night up like day,
during yesteryear’s Lantern Festival
The moon rose above willow boughs asway,
whilst two spoke furtively after nightfall

Those peach and plum blossoms in Luoyang’s east fly to and fro — on whose house do they land?
A woman of Luoyang bears looks fetching as she sees fallen petals, sighing long.
This year, flowers fall, colors fade. Next year, flowers will bloom again, and who will see?
Seen, I have, the pine trees cut down for coin, and heard, I have, of mulfields turned to sea.
Ancients haunt not the city’s east, modern folk still face fallen petals on the wind.

A messenger met whilst picking flowers; sent then were they to the one in Longtou.
Jiangnan has nothing great going for it, aside from a brief gift of a spring’s sprig.

Original text
折花逢驿使，寄与陇头人。
江南无所有，聊寄一枝春。

Chu’s people sing songs using bamboo reeds
The itinerants’ tears stain their clothing
A long-time guest inside a foreign land
Oft dreams of returning home on cold nights
One sealed-up letter has yet to come back
A thousand trees’ leaves all fly in the air
Southwards across the waters of Dongting
Further should the news be in scarce supply