Autumn mist drifts blue over the lake;
All of the grass is coated with frost;
One might think that an artist had sprinked jade dust
Over the fine blossoms.

The sweet breath of the flowers has drifted off;
A cold wind bends their stems backwards.
Soon, the golden withered leaves
Of the lotus will float on the water.

My heart is tired. My little lamp
Has gone out with a sputter, it reminds me of sleep.
I come to you, dear resting place!
Yes, give me rest! I have need for refreshment!

I cry much in my loneliness.
The autumn in my heart goes on too long.
Sun of love, will you no longer shine
To gently dry my bitter tears?

(After Chang Tsi)