bó wù nóng yún chóu yǒng zhòu,
ruì nǎo xiāo jīn shòu。
jiā jié yòu chóngyáng,
yù zhěn shā chú,
bàn yè liáng chū tòu。
dōng lí bǎ jiǔ huáng hūn hòu,
yòu '
àn xiāng yíng xiù。
mò dào bù xiāo hún,
lián juàn xī fēng,
rén bǐ huáng huā shòu。
To the tune of Intoxicated Under the Shadow of Flowers · The Double Ninth Festival
By Li Qingzhao
Light mists and heavy clouds,
melancholy the long dreary day,
In the golden censer
the burning incense is dying away.
It is again time
for the lovely Double Ninth festival;
The coolness of midnight
penetrates my screen of shear silk
and chills my pillow of jade.
After drinking wine after twilight
under the chrysanthemum hedge,
My sleeves are perfumed
by the faint fragrance of the plants.
Oh, I cannot say it is not enchanting,
Only, when the west wind stirs the curtain,
I see that I am more gracile
than the yellow flowers.