古木向人秋,惊蓬掠鬓稠。
是重阳、何处堪愁。
记得当年惆怅事,正风雨,下南楼。
断梦几能留,香魂一哭休。
怪凉蟾、空满衾裯。
霜落鸟啼浑不睡,偏想出,旧风流。
Ancient trees lengthen into the autumn for man,
Floating duckweed swept past his ringlets.
It was a new Double Ninth Festival,
Curst and sad with fidgets.
I have a fund of the heart-rending arrival
In the midst of the wind and rain,
Striding down from the gable.
How can I detain the aborted dream
Whence her sweet soil wept me out of sleep?
In such cold moon beam,
The bare bedding is destitute of her keep.
Sitting up to the raucous cries of crows in the falling frosts
Of all things, I should dream up my old fair wights.
By Nalan Xingde
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