bù sī liàng zì nán wàng
qiān lǐ gū fén wú chù huà qī liáng
zòng shǐ xiāng féng yīng bù shí
chén mǎn miàn bìn rú shuāng
yè lái yōu mèng hū huán xiāng
xiǎo xuān chuāng zhèng shū zhuāng
xiāng gù wú yán wéi yǒu lèi qiān háng
liào dé nián nián cháng duàn chù
míng yuè yè duǎn sōng gǎng
Not think of capacity self hardly possible forget
Thousand li alone grave not place say wife cold
Even if together meet must not recognise
Dust cover face, temples like frost
Night come deep dream suddenly return home
Little window properly dress make up
Mutual look not speak, just be tears thousand line
Expect proper every year heart break place
Bright moon night thin pine guard
I have not often thought of her, but neither can I forget.
Her lonely grave is a thousand li distant, I can’t say where my wife lies cold.
We could not recognise each other even if we met again,
My face is all but covered with dust, my temples glazed with frost.
In deepest night, a sudden dream returns me to my homeland,
She sits before a little window, and sorts her dress and make-up.
We look at each other without a word, a thousand lines of tears.
Must it be that every year I’ll think of that heart-breaking place,
Where the moon shines brightly in the night, and bare pines guard the tomb.