The lovely Spring breeze has come
Back to the Lake of the West.
The Spring waters are so clear and
Green they might be freshly painted.
The clouds of perfume are sweeter
Than can be imagined. In the
Gentle East wind the petals
Fall like grains of rice. This old
Military counsellor,
Moved by the Spring, is filled with
Troubled thoughts. His white hairs, like
This poem, are a salute of
Autumn to Spring. He offers
The lake a cup of wine. He
Thinks of his comrades on the
Frontiers of Heaven, ten thousand
Miles away. The Spring moves the hearts
Of all men alike. Snow melts
From the passes. The mountains
Turn green. Flowers cover the
River banks. Under the full
Moon of April young men welcome
The Spring with wine and love. But
Me, once more greeting the Spring,
My head is white. I am in
A strange land, in the midst of
People whose ways are not mine.
The soft East wind is the only
Familiar thing from the old days.
OU YANG HSIU