I remember the spring of the year before last—
You said nothing but were full of sadness.
Now I have returned but you are gone!
The ornamented zither has lasted longer than you.
To-day, a pine at the bottom of the valley;
To-morrow, a po tree on the top of the hill!
I shall grieve till heaven and earth turn round,
Till we no longer recognize each other face to face!

translated by James J. Y. Liu