The paired butterflies are already yellow with August Over the grass in the West garden; They hurt me. I grow older.
Forever and forever and forever
To find pleasure in life, make the most of the spring.
Heaven is high, Earth Wide. Bitter between them flies my sorrow.
Since Life is but a Dream, Why toil to no avail?
You ask me why I dwell in the green mountain; I smile and make no reply for my heart is free of care. As the peach-blossom flows down stream and is gone into the unknown, I have a world apart that is not among men.