Without bitterest cold that penetrates to the very bone, how can plum blossoms send forth their fragrance all over the world?

Come out to view / the truth of flowers blooming / in poverty.

Ballet in the air... Twin butterflies until, twice white They Meet, they mate

Poverty's child - he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.

For this lovely bowl let us arrange these flowers since there is no rice.

Seek on high bare trails Sky-reflecting violets... Mountain-top jewels

All my friends / viewing the moon – / an ugly bunch.