The Desolate Willow Poem by East Sea Fairy Xing Yi

By NALAN X Xingde Translated by East-sea Fairy

Where are the poplar blossoms and willow catkins gone with the wind?
Oh, they are demolished by the thick ice and heavy snow wear.
Before dawn when Nyx makes her curtain thinned,
there's a breath of coldness in the air.
This willow three appears especially desolate and drear.
Fortunately the bright Cynthia of silvery glows
who bestows her light to every willow tree unbiasedly and fair
and her loving care shows,
no matter whether it lavishly or sparsely grows.

I find it more unavoidable for me to recall my lass of yore
especially in the season when the thickset willow catkins fall and decay.
Today my rendezvous with her comes to my dream once more.
However, good dreams easily break halfway
and it is hard to continue an unfinished dream anyway.
So I send my melancholy to the west wind, but, no matter how strong the west wind blows
it can't blow away
can't blow away the sadness and sorrows
locked tightly between my eyebrows.