The earth has swallowed the snow
Again we see the plum trees in blossom
The new willow leaves are gold
The waters of the lake are silver
Now the butterflies powdered with gold
Lay velvet heads within the hearts of flowers

In his still boat, the fisherman pulls up his dripping net
Rippling the still water
He thinks of a girl at home, like a dark swallow in the nest
He thinks of a girl at home, waiting like a swallow for her mat?

On this autumn evening, the whit? candlelight shines coldly on the painted screen
As she strikes the passing fireflies with her gossamer fan
The color of the steps of the courtyard at night is like cold water
And she sits watching the herd boy dally with the spinning maiden