To the Tune of P'u-san man
菩萨蛮
Wei Zhuang
Everyone has praise for Chiang-nan fair;
A traveller may well get old there.
The spring water is bluer than the unclouded sky.
In a painted barge listening to the rain I lie.
The tavern maid by the stove is fair like the moon.
With arms white as frost and snow stream.
Do not go home before you get old;
If you do, your heart'll get stone cold.
Translator: C.Y. Hsu