Living in this world is a great dream,
Why exert oneself to shorten one's like?
That is why I'm rapt with wine all day
And lie happily by the front pillars of the hall.
Waking up, I look at the courtyard:
A single bir is singing among the flowers.
Pray tell me, bird, what day is this?
Thr oriole keeps singing in the spring breeze.
Moved by this scene, I wish to sigh,
Bur pour out another cup of wine insread.
I sing aloud to wait for the bright moon;
My song over, all my feeling are gone.