My sickness left me little joy during this long night. I dreamt about
Chang-an City in vain and recognized its main street. The light of flowers and
their shadows cast by the moon should move me to report the beauty of this
Although the cups and dishes are scattered about in a mess, the wine is
delicious and plums are sour, just as I wish. Flowers, do not laugh at me when
I, being intoxicated, put you in my hair! It is a pity that the Spring is
getting old like man.