TUNE: SILK-WASHING STREAM

In light pervading cold I mount the little tower.

What can I do with an autumn-like vernal hour?

I see on painted screen but mist-veiled running stream.

The carefree falling petals fly as light as dream;

The boundless drizzling rain resembles a tearful look.

The broidered curtain hangs idly on silver hook.

浣溪沙

漠漠轻寒上小楼，

晓阴无奈是穷秋。

淡烟流水画屏幽。

自在飞花轻似梦，

无边丝雨细如愁。

宝帘闲挂小银钩。