惊晓漏， 护春眠。 格外娇慵只自怜。 寄语酿花风日好， 绿窗来与上琴弦。
Red Jujube Nanlanshinde
Though
startled from sleep by the morning call, What
lets it but she would be there for the Spring thrall, And
the lonely chamber stay accounts for her special lassitude. In
the womb of fine weather, flowers are worded by the interval, And
the green-windowed cabinet hears the strings of the fiddle.
（吴松林 译） |
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