yáng yuè nán fēi yàn,
chuán wén zhì cǐ huí。
wǒ xíng shū wèi yǐ,
hé rì fù guī lái。
jiāng jìng cháo chū luò,
lín hūn zhàng bù kāi,
míngzhāowàng xiāng chù,
yìng jiàn lǒng tóu méi。
They say that wildgeese, flying southward,
Here turn back, this very month....
Shall my own southward journey
Ever be retraced, I wonder?
...The river is pausing at ebb-tide,
And the woods are thick with clinging mist –
But tomorrow morning, over the mountain,
Dawn will be white with the plum-trees of home.