花谢花飞飞满天，红消香断有谁怜? 

游丝软系飘春榭，落絮轻沾扑绣帘。 

闺中女儿惜春暮，愁绪满怀无释处。 

手把花锄出绣闱，忍踏落花来复去。 

As blossoms fade and fly across the sky,  

Who pities the faded red, the scent that has been? 

Softly the gossamer floats over spring pavilions, 

Gently the willow fluff wafts to the embroidered screen. 

A girl in her chamber mourns the passing of spring, 

No relief from anxiety her poor heart knows, 

Hoe in hand she steps through her portal, 

Loath to tread on the blossom as she comes and goes 

愿奴胁下生双翼，随花飞到天尽头。 

天尽头，何处有香丘? 

未若锦囊收艳骨， 

一净土掩风流质本洁来还洁去，不教污淖陷渠沟 

I long to take wing and fly 

With the flowers to earth’s uttermost bound; 

And yet at earth’s uttermost bound 

Where can a fragrant burial mound be found? 

Better shroud the fair petals in silk 

With clean earth for their outer attire; 

For pure you came and pure shall go, 

Not sinking into some foul ditch or mire. 

柳丝榆荚自芳菲，不管桃飘与李飞。 

桃李明年能再发，明年闺中知有谁? 

三月香巢初垒成，梁间燕子太无情。 

明年花发虽可啄，却不道人去梁空巢也倾。 

一年三百六十日，风刀霜剑严相逼。 

明媚香妍能几时，一朝飘泊难寻觅。 

Willows and elms, fresh and verdant, 

Care not if peach and plum blossom drift away; 

Next year, though once again you may peck the buds, 

From the beam of an empty room your nest will fall. 

Each year for three hundred and sixty days, 

The cutting wind and biting frost contend. 

How long can beauty flower fresh and fair? 

In a single day wind can whirl it to its end. 

花开易见落难寻，阶前愁杀葬花人。 

独倚花锄泪暗洒，洒上空枝见血痕。 

杜鹃无语正黄昏，荷锄归去掩重门。 

青灯照壁人初睡，冷雨敲窗被未温。 

Fallen, the brightest blooms are hard to find; 

With aching heart their gravedigger comes now 

Alone, her hoe in hand, her secret tears 

Falling like drops of blood on each bare bough. 

Dusk falls and the cuckoo is silent; 

Her hoe brought back, the lodge is locked and still 

A green lamp lights the wall as sloop enfolds her, 

Cold rain pelts the casement and her quilt is chill 

怪奴底事倍伤神，半为怜春半恼春。 

怜春忽至恼忽去，至又无言去无闻。 

昨宵庭外悲歌发，知是花魂与鸟魂? 

花魂鸟魂总难留，鸟自无言花自羞。 

What causes my two-fold anguish? 

Love for spring and resentment of spring; 

For suddenly it comes and suddenly goes, 

Its arrival unheralded, noiseless its departing. 

Last night from the courtyard floated a sad song- 

Was it the soul of blossom, the soul of birds? 

Hard to detain, the soul of blossom or birds, 

For blossoms have no assurance, birds no words 

尔今死去侬收葬，未卜侬身何日丧? 

侬今葬花人笑痴，他年葬侬知是谁? 

试看春残花渐落，便是红颜老死时。 

一朝春尽红颜老，花落人亡两不知。 

Now you are dead I come to bury you; 

None has divined the day when I shall die; 

Men laugh at my folly in burying fallen flowers, 

But who will bury me when dead I lie? 

See, when spring draws to a close and flowers fall, 

This is the season when beauty must ebb and fade; 

The day that spring takes wing and beauty fades, 

Who will care for the fallen blossom or dead maid?