Ten thousand emotions are mingled—their sorrow and their joy.
Yet I know only that my heart is torn in this Spring season.
She of whom I am thinking—Oh-h-h-h-h—is at the shore of the Hsiang River,
Separated by the clouds and the rainbow—without these mists I could surely see.
I scatter my tears a foot's length upon the water's surface.
I entrust the Easterly flowing water with my passion for the Cherished One.
If I could command the shining of the Spring, could grasp it without putting it out—Oh-h-h-h-h—
I should wish to send it as a gift to that beautiful person at the border of Heaven.