近寒食雨草萋萋,著麦苗风柳映堤。
等是有家归未得,杜鹃休向耳边啼。
As the holiday approaches, and grasses are bright after rain,
And the causeway gleams with willows, and wheatfields wave in the wind,
We are thinking of our kinsfolk, far away from us.
O cuckoo, why do you follow us, why do you call us home?