Qingzhao Li

TO THE TUNE OF LIKE A DREAM

Last night a sprinkling of rain, a violent wind.
After a deep sleep, still not recovered from the lingering effect of wine,
I tried to inquire of the one rolling up the shade;
But the answer came: “The cherry-apple blossoms are still the same.”
“Oh, don’t you know, don’t you know?”
The red must be getting thin, while the green is becoming plump.”