「相思樹，種在愁城，無枝無葉冷青青。相思本是花為命，每到低頭只為卿。總係春寒根蔃生唔定，敢就化作浮萍又往別處生。我勸世間蝴蝶莫去穿花徑。唉！花無定性。就係蝶亦終難醒，究竟相思無樹春夢亦無憑。」

The tree of love is planted in Sorrow City,
Branchless and leafless, bleak and alone.
Flowers are the primal life of love.
Whene’er flowers droop their heads, ‘tis but because of you, sir!
Mostly when spring is chill, flowers strike no firm root.
So they are changed into duckweed and drift elsewhere for re-birth.
I warn butterflies in this world not to thread the flower-path.
Ah! Flowers are fickle in their nature.
Thus even butterflies at last can scarce awaken from their spells.
Yet, after all, love has no tree, and a spring dream no substance.

「相思索，綁住兩頭心。溫柔鄉裡果住情人。君呀，柳或你唔肯放鬆定是奴綁得你緊？迷頭迷惱好似昏君。縱有妙手話解得呢箇結開亦無路可問，就俾你利刀亦難割得呢段情根。你有本事削性丟開唔掛恨，點想日來丟淡夢裡又要追尋。天呀，你既係生人做乜把情字做引？但係情長情短未必冇的來因。總係唔錯用箇點真情就唔使受困，縱使一時果住到底有日開心。真正最會收人都係瘟緊箇陣。唉！都係敢混。唔怕精乖唔怕氣渾屯，總係情關難破就係死亦要追尋。」

The rope of love-thought binds together our two hearts.
Therewith is the wooer confined in Complaisant Thorp.
My lord, either you are loth to let go, or it is I that have fast bound you.
Dazed is your head, and dazed your brain, as that of a witless princeling.
Though some deft-handed craftsman say that he could unravel this knot, yet I have no means of asking him.
Aye, though sharp your knife, you scarce could cut this passion’s root.
If you are wise, then in your own despite cast off the bond! Do not rivet regret in your heart!
How could I think that, in days to come, you would weary of me, and yet when dreaming follow in my quest?
Heaven! Since thou madest man, why didst thou give him the word ‘passion’ for a guide?
But, be passion long or passion brief, ‘tis certain that fate was foreordained.
Withal, if true passion be not misused, men need not suffer duress.
Though for a moment you be distressed, yet in the end your heart will be relieved.
Truly the best time for revenge is the hour of love’s malady.
Ah! All is chaos.
I do not fear your wit, I do not fear its want.
Though passion’s gates be hard to burst, yet even in death I must follow in your quest.

「勸你唔好發夢，恐怕夢裡相逢。夢後醒來事事都化空，分離兩箇字豈有心唔痛。君呀你在天涯流落你妹在水面飄逢。懷人偷抱琵琶弄，多少凄凉盡在指中。捨得你唔係敢樣子死心，君呀你又唔累得我咁重。睇我瘦成敢樣子重講乜花容。今日恩情好極都係唔中用。唉！愁萬種。累得我相思無主血淚啼紅。

I warn you ‘tis ill dreaming: for I fear that in dreams we two may meet:
Thus after the dream, when we awake, all things would change and would grow void.
‘Parting’ – how can the word fail to cause heart-ache?
My lord, you are departed to heaven’s verge: your handmaid is as weed drifting on the water.
Remembering my lover, I furtively clasp my guitar to play thereon.
Unnumbered sorrows are all committed to my finger-tips.
Were you not so true to death, my lord, you could not do me so heavy a hurt.
Since I am grown so thin, how can I liken my face to a flower?
To-day love’s passion, though exceeding great, avails me nothing.
Ah! Sadness has a myriad phases.
You have wronged me in making my love-thoughts masterless: I have cried till my tears ran blood-red.

「點得長日發夢，等我日夜共你相逢。萬里程途都係一夢通。箇的無情雲雨把情根種，種落呢段情根莫俾佢打鬆。雖則夢裡巫山空把你送，就係夢中同你講幾句亦可以解得吓愁容。君呀，你發夢便約定共我一齊方正有用，切莫我要夢裡去尋君你又不在夢中。君呀，你早食早眠把身體保重，心想痛，你歸心何日動，免至我醒來離別獨對住燈紅。」

Would I might dream the live-long day, dreaming that day and night I were united with you!
A myriad leagues of highroad may be traversed in a single dream.
Yon rain and clouds, though loveless, have planted in me passion’s seed.
And since this passion’s root is planted, I must not suffer it to be jerked loose.
Though in your dreams the Witches’ Mountain receive you but in vain:
Yet amid dreams I may speak a few sentences with you and thus rid me of this sad countenance.
My lord, you should be sure of dreaming when I dream: then it will avail you.
When in dreams I seek for you, you should never fail to be a-dreaming.
Lord, break your fast early and fall asleep betimes; pay heed to your body.
The thoughts of my mind are painful.
Prithee, when will your heart yearn homewards?
Let me not wake parted from you and in loneliness watch the red lamp.

「莫話唔怕火，試睇吓箇隻烘火燈蛾。飛來飛去總要摸落箇盞深窩。深淺本係唔知故此成夜去摸，迷頭迷惱好似著了風魔。佢點曉得方寸好似萬丈深潭任你飛，亦不過逐浪隨波唔知喪盡幾多。待等熱到癡身情亦知到係錯，總係愛飛唔得起問你叫乜誰拖。雖則係死咯任你死盡萬千佢重唔肯結果，心頭咁猛依舊向住箇的猛將張羅。點得你學蝴蜨夢醒箇陣花亦悟破。唉！飛去任我。就俾你花花世界都奈我唔何。」

Say not that you have no fear of the fire! Look at yonder fire-scorched lamp moth!
Hither and thither it flies: but still it must grope to its fall down the deep chasm.
Of deep and shallow alike it has no knowledge, therefore all night long it goes groping,
With dazed head and dazzled brain, as if it had met the wind-fiend.
How can it know that the inch-square of the lamp’s chimney is deep as a myriad ells; that, though you fly, you cannot cross it?
Adown the foam and aslant the billows, I cannot tell how many of you have thus perished.
But wait till the heat riots in your body, then you will see the error of your passion.
Though you love flying, you cannot rise: whom, I ask, will you summon to the rescue?
Though you die, yet were you to die ten thousand, thousand times, the others would not bear fruit of repentance:
Their desire being so fierce, they would follow, as before, in aid of their fierce captains.
Would you could, like a butterfly, awake from your dream! Then would the flowers also be conscious of their transience.
Ah! Let me fly away!
Then, though the world be flowers, flowers, yet what is that to me?

「花心蜨，捍極佢都唔飛。一定貪圖香膩却被花迷。花為有情憐憫蜨使，蜨為風流所以正得咁癡。大抵花蜨相交都係同一樣氣味。唉！情願死。叫我割愛實在唔輕易，除是蜨死花殘箇陣正得了期。」

A butterfly, settled in the heart of a flower, will not fly away for all that you would expel him.
He ever lusts after the gloss of fragrance: in very deed the flowers cast their spell on him.
The flowers, because of their gaiety, become so impassioned.
In fine the dalliance of flowers with butterflies hath a savour of likeness.
Ah! Willingly would I die!
You bid me cut my love’s cord: truly it is no easy task,
Unless so be that the butterfly is dead and the flower crushed: then indeed the final day has come.

鳥啼花落暗傷春，人老對住花殘想起就斷魂。青春自信都有人憐憫，恐怕脂粉飄零寂莫一生。唔知邊一箇多情邊一箇薄行。總係紅頻偏遇箇的喪心人。今日蜨去剩朶花開叫我何所倚凭。 唉，喉帶噎哽，想到玉碎香埋阻不住兩泪淋。

The bird cries; the flower falls; the spring has a hidden wound.
The man in old age, as he muses over the bruised flower, feels broken in spirit.
Green spring itself believes that there are those who pity its sadness:
Yet I fear that we, playthings of rouge and powder, must drift desolate all our life long.
I cannot tell whose love is strong, or whose is fickle.
Commonly a perverse fate betrays’ the rosy girl to heartless men.
To-day the butterfly is gone, deserting an open flower: on whom, then, can I rely?
Ah! My throat is stifled with sobbing.
When I think how the jade-jewel is shattered and fragrance buried, I cannot check the tears which fall from my two eyes.

聽見你話死，寔在見思疑。何苦輕生得咁癡？你係為人客死心唔怪得你，死因錢債叫我怎不傷悲？你平日當我係知心亦談同我講句，做乜交情三兩箇月都冇句言詞？往日箇種恩情丟了落水，縱有金銀燒盡帶不到陰司。可惜飄泊在青樓孤負你一世，煙花場上冇日開眉。

你名叫做秋喜，只望等到秋來還有喜意。做乜才過冬至後就被雪霜欺。今日無力春風，唔共你争得啖氣。落花無主，敢就葬在春泥。此後情思有夢，你便頻須寄。或者盡我呢點窮心，慰吓故知。

泉路茫茫，你雙脚又咁细。黄泉無客店，問你向乜誰棲。青山白骨，唔知憑誰祭。衰楊殘月，空聽箇隻杜鵑啼，未必有箇知心，来共你擲紙。清明空恨箇頁紙錢飛。

罷咯！不若當作你係義妻，来送你入寺。等你孤魂無主，仗吓佛力扶持。你便哀懇箇位慈雲施吓佛偈，等你轉過來生，誓不做客妻。若係寃債未償，再罰你落花粉地。你便揀一箇多情早早見機。我若共你未斷情緣重有相會日子。須緊記念吓前恩義。講到銷魂兩箇字，共你死過都唔遲。

I hear them say that you are dead: yet indeed I am in doubt.
How came you, so insensate, to make light of life?
You died fro your gallant? Then I cannot grudge your death.
You died for your debts? Then tell me, how can I fail to be grief-stricken?
In your life-time you accounted me your sweetheart: therefore you should have taken counsel with me:
Why, then, though our love was united for three and two months, did you say no word?
You have flung into the water that passion of days gone by.
Now, though I burn gold and silver, I avail not to carry it to the Lord of Hell.
‘Tis pity that I jilted you to drift all your life long among green arbours.
In the place of flowers and vapour never a day smoothes care from the brow:

Yet since your name is called ‘Autumn Joy’,
I do but hope that, when autumn comes, we shall have joy once more.
Why, now the winter solstice is just passed, do I suffer spite of snow and hail?
To-day, week as the spring breeze, I can make no effort to aid you:
Aye! Fallen flowers are masterless: therefore they are buried in the slough of spring.
If hereafter your passions dream dreams, you should transmit them to me ever and anon:
So perchance I may devote all my poor heart to solace of my dead mistress.

Wide, wide is the path of hell: yet your two feet are so dainty:
Hell has no inn: at whose house, prithee, will you rest?
I know not whom you trust to worship your white bones upon the green hill-side.
Lest beneath fragile willow and under the waning moon you hear but the cuckoo’s empty call.
Perchance you have no sweetheart to cast paper-money on your tomb.
So at the Tsheng-meng festival you will miss in vain the paper-money which flits round other graves.

Yes, you were best have been a virtuous wife, that I might have set your tablet in Buddha’s shrine.
Thus your spirit, forlorn and masterless, might have leaned on Budha’s strength.
It were well for you to entreat that Thsz Wan may grant you the Buddhist invocations:
Then, transformed in the next life, you can swear to be no chance-comer’s bride.
If your sin-debts are unpaid, you will again be doomed to the haunt of flower and rouge:
Therefore you should choose you a true lover, and betimes spy out your chance.
If the union of my love-fate with yours remain unbroken, I will yet find a trysting-day.
Forget it not!
Bethink you of our past love’s devotion.
Can I but converse with you till we be soul-absorbed, if then I pass through death with you, it will no be too late.

「打乜主意，重使乜思疑。你唔帶得奴奴你便早日話過妹知。我只估話等郎至此落在呢處烟花地，捨得我肯跟人去上岸乜天時。只望共你敘吓悲歡談吓往事，點想你失意還鄉事盡非。一定唆攪有人將我出氣，話我好似水性楊花逐浪飛。呢陣講極冰清你亦唔多在意，萬般愁緒只有天知。況且遠近盡知奴係等你，今日半途丟手敢就冇的挨依。枉費我往日待你箇副心腸今日憑在你處置，漫道你問心難過就係死亦難欺。唔見面講透苦心死亦唔得眼閉。君呀，你有心憐我你便早日開嚟，見面講透苦心死亦無乜掛意。唉！休阻滯。但得早一劇逢君我就算早一刻離別。」

What do you decide? Why are you in doubt?
If you cannot redeem your handmaid, you were better have told me betimes.
I trow that my tarrying for my lord till now has sunk me into yon place of flowers and vapour.
So, were I fain to follow a man up the bank of safety, what chance have I now?
I did but hope to converse with you of sorrow and gladness, to talk of bygone things.
How could I know that you would lose your purpose and utterly nullify all thought of returning home.
Verily some one has incited you to vent your anger upon me.
You say that my nature is as water, and that like willow-blossom I drift adown the waves.
But now that my words are very purity, you pay me little heed.
Only heaven knows the myriad threads of my sad thoughts.
Moreover, far and near ‘tis known full well that your handmaid awaits you.
To-day in mid-road you cast my hand from yours. Therefore I have nothing whereon to rely.
Vainly I have wasted the heart’s emotion which I gave you in bygone time: To-day I suffer you to deal with me as you please.
Say not that, if you ask your heart, you are ill content: even were I dead, such deceit were hard.
Yet till I see you face to face and speak fully of my heart’s bitterness, death cannot close my eyes.
My lord, if you have the heart to pity me, you were best set out hitherwards betimes.
If I see you face to face and speak fully of my heart’s bitterness, I shall reck little even of death.
Ah! Away with hindrances!
Yet if I meet you an hour earlier, then meseems I shall but part from you an hour the sooner.

心要把定，切莫思疑但得意合情投我就一味去癡。煙花到底不是長情地，有日花殘就怕會被蝶欺。箇的野蜨採花都是無乜氣味，咁好鮮花唔採偏向箇的野花棲。總係仙花遇著仙蝶就會成知己，死命留心睇乍向邊一處飛。有陣深心冷眼重會將人試，假意採吓箇的殘花試睇佢知到未知。莫話我地仙花種子無根氣，睇住你來頭我就早早見機。我知到都詐作唔知還去試你，偏向風搖曳好似冇的挨依。唉！須要會意。多受的折磨或者共我消減的晦氣，我心都為你死箇的貪花都是在門外企。蜨呀，你有心來採我，等我開透都唔遲。

You must set firm your heart: away with hesitation!
Can I but find a consenting mind and a concordant love, then with all my soul I shall yearn thereafter.
Smoke and flowers in fine are no land of lasting love.
One day the flowers will be bruised, then I fear they will suffer the butterfly’s disdain.
It savours ill that those wild butterflies should ravish flowers:
They do not ravish the fresh flowers, though so fair: wilfully they perch on the wild flowers.
Thus, when fairy flower meets elfin butterfly, then they two grow sweethearts:
Hence, under deadly doom, anxious of heart, I watch their flitting.
Sometimes with deep guile and cold eyes man still makes trial of man:
So falsely some feign to ravish the bruised flowers for a test whether they know or not.
Say not that the seed of our fairy flowers issues neither in root nor life!
I watch the way of your coming; then betimes I espy my chance.
I know, but feign ignorance: thus I go to test you.
Wilfully before the wind I wave to and fro, as if I had naught whereon to rely.
Ah! Needs must we understand each other.
I have suffered overmuch distress: maybe your presence beside me will lessen my melancholy.
My heart dies because of you.
They who lust for flowers stand outside my door.
Butterfly! If thou hast the heart to ravish me, wait till my bloom is full-blown: even then it will not be too late.

「你如果要去，呢回唔使你開嚟，索性共你分離免得耐耐又試慘悽。人話我地野花好極唔多矜貴，做乜貪花人仔偏向箇的野花迷。我郎好極都係人地夫壻，青樓情重是必怨恨在深閨。不若割斷情絲免使郎你掛繫，但得我郎唔見面住得得我日夜悲啼。相思兩地實在難禁抵，久別相逢叫我點捨得你去歸。千一箇唔係住埋千一箇唔得到底。唉！真正累世。凑著你我都有人拘制，生不得共你同矜死都要共埋。」

If you must needs be gone, you should not to-day have set out hitherwards.
Despite myself I part from you, lest I suffer distress time upon time.
Men say that we flowers of the wilderness, however fair, yet are of no value.
Why then does youth in lust of flowers dote on the wild blosoms?
My lover, though high of worth, yet is another’s husband.
Hence passion’s transport in the wanton must needs excite resentment in the wife.
I were best sever passion’s silk thread and escape from memory of you:
So, when I can no longer see my lover’s face, let me sob with sighs by day and night.
‘Tis hard for you and me to repress our love.
Well met are we after long parting: how, then, tell me, could I bear to leave you and go home?
Not one in a thousand lives with his love: not one in a thousand is constant to the end.
Ah! Truly the world is baneful.
You and I each have one who constrains us not to meet.
In life I could not share your coverlet: but in death we shall be united.

「唔好熱，熱極會生風。我想天時人事大抵相同，唔信你睇回南日久就有涼風送。共佢好極都要離開暫且放鬆，我想人世會合都有期唔到你放縱，年年七夕都係一日相逢。人地話相逢一日都唔中用，一日十二箇時辰點盡訴得苦衷。我話相逢一日莫話唔中用，年年一日日久就會成功。點得人學得七姐咁情長千載共，真情種只有生離無死別分外見情濃。」

A baneful thing is such heat: from heat’s excess is born the wind.
Methinks the weather of the sky and the affairs of men are in the main alike.
You doubt? Then, look! When for a length of days the wind has veered southward, a cold gust speeds along.
So, though devoted to your lover, you must part, and for a while you must let each other go.
Methinks that in human life there are occasions of union, which it is not in your power to forgo.
Year by year the seventh night of the seventh moon is a date of meeting.
Folk say that meeting for but a single day is useless.
A day has twelve hours only, how can one therein tell the full tale of the heart’s sadness?
But I say that meeting for a day should not be deemed useless:
Year by year a single day will in length of days bring its guerdon.
Would men could imitate the Seven Sisters in love’s longevity, that union might last for a thousand years.
Herein is true passion’s test:
That parting comes but in life and not in death. Marvellous is such love’s strength.

「乜你惱得咁快，一見我就心煩。相逢有咁耐咯惱過亦有咁多番，共你惱過正好番箇情字都帶淡。君呀，你時常係敢樣子惱法我寔在見為難，我減頸就得你多又怕把你情性弄慣。削性開喉共你嗌過一變免使你惡得咁交關，或者你過後思量重聽我勸諫。呢回從新相好過免俾別人彈，我都係見你共我有的合心故此唔捨得丟你另揀，就係共你時常惱出面都係掛你在心間。點得心事擺開從君你過眼，箇陣相見恨晚。呢回二家唔放手重要做箇義女情男。」

Why is your wrath so hasty? At sight of me your heart takes fire at once.
Long have we been acquainted: often have we been wroth.
I have been wroth with you and have been reconciled again: now even the word ‘passion’ cloys.
My lord, since your wrath is thus constant, certes I feel hardly used.
Submissive I have bent the neck too humbly: so I fear me that I have made sport for the passion of your nature.
In mine own despite I spoke out once in wrath with you, lest your cruelty should grow too savage.
Maybe hereafter you will take though, and listen again to my warning.
Now let us follow anew the way of friendship, avoiding other men’s blame:
For I have seen that between us two there is concord, therefore I cannot endure to part from you and choose another.
Though I have ever shown wrath toward you in my face, yet have I set you in my heart.
Would I could display my heart’s emotion, so that it might follow my lord and pass before his eyes!
Then I shall but grieve that it was nightfall e’er we saw each other.
Henceforth let not us two unclasp hands; we must ever be virtuous maid and loving man.

「實在我都唔過得意，算我薄情虧負O罷你，等我掉轉呢副心腸共你好過都未遲。人地話好酒飲落半罈正知到吓味，因為從前耳軟所以正得咁迷癡。今日河水雖則係咁深都要共你撑到底。唉！將近半世，唔共你住埋唔係計。細想你從前箇一點心事待我叫我點捨得把你難為。」

Truly I also am ill-content.
‘Think you my love’s lightness casts a slur on you?
Wait! My passion’s mood is veering round, now I’ll be good to you, and none too late.
Folk say that, if wine be choice, you must drain half the bottle e’er you know its flavour.
Since erstwhile my ears were weak to your cozening, therefore I am so infatuate.
To-day, though the river water be so deep, yet together you and I must punt our craft to the end.
Ah! Almost half my life is spent.
‘Twas not my reckoning to live without you.
As thoughtfully I muse how once your heart’s care guarded me, tell me, how can I venture to ill-treat you?

「煩過一陣，想起吓前因。此生何事墮落紅塵。我想託世做到女流原係可憫，況且青樓女子又試斷梗無根。好極繁華不過係陪酒箇陣。等到客散燈寒又試自己斷魂。有客就叫做姑娘無客就下等，一時冷淡把我作賤三分。或者遇着人客有情都重還有倚凭，鬼怕箇的無情醉漢就係攞命災瘟。大抵箇日落到青樓就從箇日種恨。唉，總係由得我著緊啫。總要捱到泪盡花殘就算做過一世人。」

Prithee, ponder a moment on predestined fate.
Why do I, in this life, sink into the red mundane dust?
Methinks committal to the world in woman’s sex of itself is pitiable.
The more, then, in green arbours does a girl suffer breaking of stalk and lack of root.
Splendour’s glamour lasts but during wassail over of the wine.
Wait till the guests scatter and the lamp grows cold, then you will feel heart-broken.
If I have a guest-gallant, then I am styled ‘my lady’: if none, then I am degraded.
An instant’s dullness makes me threefold viler.
If haply you meet an impassioned guest, then you still have some reliance.
But sorely I fear those unloving drunkards; they are as a blighting pest.
In fine, ‘twas from the day when I sank into the green arbour, that I sowed the seed of remorse.
Ah! Let me vent my spite!
Withal we must endure till flowers are bruised and tears run dry: e’er we have lived a single human life.

「蝴蜨夢，夢繞在花前。蜨呀！你為貪採名花故此夢得咁倒癲。我想人世遇着情魔就係情夢都會亂，一吓魂迷心醉就夢到孽海情天。況且相愛又試相連點信癡夢會短，定要追尋香夢向夢裏團圓。箇陣朝朝暮暮夢作神仙眷，離魂一枕夢當遊仙。睇佢綺夢係咁沈迷就呼喚都不轉，重要鴛鴦同夢化作並頭蓮。勢冇話夢幻本屬無憑人事會改變，點想一場春夢都是過眼雲煙。大抵夢境即是歡場勸你休要眷戀。唉！花夢易斷。今日夢醒人去遠，恨只恨意中心秖結一段夢中緣。」

The butterflies dream: they dream of circling round the flowers.
Butterfly! ‘Tis because you lust to ravish the famous flowers, that your dream is so frenzied.
Methinks, when mortal man meets passion madness, then even his pure dreams turn riotous.
Once the soul is bemused and the heart intoxicate, then its dream is of the sea of sin and of the heaven of passion.
Moreover, when love wins union, how can the insensate dream believe its brevity?
Indeed, it behoves you to seek for sweet dreams, and in the dream be close united:
Then day by day, and evening after evening, in dreams you will form a fairy family.
When soul-bereft I lie upon my pillow, I become in dreams peer of the wandering fairies.
Lo! His fantastic dreams are so steeped in trance, that, though I shout, he does not turn back.
The teal are wont, in united dream, to change into twin lotus-flowers on a single stalk.
Nay, say not that dream visions are in essence unsubstantial, and that human things may change.
How can I think that my spring-dream is but a transient cloud-vapour?
In fine, though dream-land be pleasure-land, I warn you cease from doting thereon.
Ah! The flower-dream easily is broken.
To-day, as I wake from my dream, my love is gone far away.
I grieve, I do but grieve, that the man of my heart was bound to me only by a dream-destiny.

「花易落，月又難圓。花月情深就結下呢段孽冤。花月本係無情總係人地去綣戀，恨只恨佢催人容易老咯重去惹人憐。花若係有情就愁把月見，月你團圓得咁辛苦唎你話怎不心酸。月若係曉得憐香又點肯把花作賤，但得月輪長照住你就係花謝亦見心甜。總係共計十二箇月一年，月呀你亦不過圓十二遍。就係四時花信到咯亦不過向一時鮮，總係我地薄命如花難得月你見面。得到我對月開時又怕你缺了半邊，雖則月係咁難圓重有圓箇一日可〔⺮旲〕，花謝等到重開重要等隔一歲添。總係人遠在天涯就會對住花月自怨。唉！心緒亂，眼穿腸欲斷。君呀，重怕花開長對住你落咯月缺對住你長圓。」

Flowers fall easily: but the moon toilfully waxes round.
Flowers and moon have deep passion, therefore they are involved in this dire distress.
Flowers and moon of themselves are passionless, but men go doting upon them.
I grieve, I do but grieve, that both alike age men’s faces so hastily, and infect men with pity.
If flowers have passion, then sadly they gaze at the moon.
O Moon! Thou waxest round with such toil, how canst thou fail to make my heart sour?
If the moon knew how to pity fragrance, would she be willing to think slightingly of flowers?
But if the moon’s orb shine upon you long, then, though the flowers fade, yet you are in heart’s ease.
Though in all there be twelve months of the year, thine orb, O Moon, only twelve times waxes round:
And though flowers bloom in all four seaons, yet only for a moment they are fresh.
Since we are frail-fated as flowers, it is hard for us, O Moon, to look thee in the face:
If I look, yet when my blossom opens before thee, I fear thou wilt have lost half thine orb.
Though the moon wax round so toilfully, yet it is full, meseems, only for a day.
When the flowers fade, men wait till they reopen, but a whole year intervenes.
When our lover is far off at heaven’s verge, then we lament ourselves to flowers and moon.
Ah! The heart’s thread is tangled.
My eyes are strained: my heart is like to break.
My lord, I ever fear that constantly the open flowers will fall before your eyes, and constantly the waning moon wax round.

「花易落，花又易開，咁好花顏問你看得幾回。好花慌久開唔耐，想到花殘我都願佢莫開。好極花容終會變改，你睇枝頭花落點得再上枝來。大抵種得情根花就可愛，總怕並頭花好又要分栽。鮮花咁好又怕遊蜂採，落花無主自見癡呆。記得花前發誓都話同恩愛，點想倚花沉醉有個薄行王魁。點得尋着箇箇花神拉住佢問句。唉！花在鏡內。究竟真情還是假愛，到底桃花箇種薄命問佢點樣子生來。」

Flowers fall easily, and as easily they open.
How often, prithee, can you see a bloom so lovely?
I sorely fear that fair flowers will not be open long:
And when I think of the flowers’ decay, I had rather they never bloomed at all.
A flower-face, howsoever beautiful, must change at last.
Look you! When the flower falls from the twig-top, how can it be set upon its stalk again?
In the end, if you plant passion’s root, then lovely are the flowers.
Yet I fear lest the twin blossoms of fair flowers be sundered in their planting.
The fresh flower is so fair, I fear the vagrant bees will ravish it.
Masterless the fallen flowers feel themselves grow numb.
I remember how before the flowers we swore an oath, saying, that our love should be one.
How could I then, reclining on flowers and steeped in wine, think that there are truants such as Wong Fui?
Would we could find the flower-spirit and hale him off to our questioning!
Ah! The flowers are but in the mirror.
Is it, after all, true passion or false love?
Prithee, what, in fine, is the birthright of beings frail-fated as the peach-blossom?

「水會退，又會番流。水呀，你既退又試番流，見你日夜不休。臨行自古話難分手，做乜分手到如今又在別處逗留。大抵人世相逢都憑個氣候，花行春令月到中秋。當初慌久情唔透，一講到情深總不顧後頭。在我都話會少離多情重更厚，唉君你想透，若係日日癡埋你話點做得女牛。」

The waters may ebb and may again flow back.
O waters, that ebb and again flow back! I see how day and night ye take no rest.
‘Tis an old saw that, when the time of parting comes, it is hard to unclasp hands.
Why then, since our parting, has my love sojourned elsewhere till now?
In fine there is a term of seasons which govern the meetings of men in this world:
Thus the flower-season is the springtide: while the moon reaches her fullness in the mid-autumn.
At first I was in deadly fear that passion would not persist.
Once the talk is of deep passion, the future is no more regarded.
In my view rare meetings and frequent partings do but heighten passion.
Ah! My lord, think it through!
If day by day we dote upon each other, how can we resemble the stars of the Cowherd and the Spinning Maid?

1. 「手包琵琶百感悲，做乜老來情事總不相宜。青春一去難提起，提起番來苦自知。一向癡迷唔肯料理，今日鏡中顏色自見嫌疑。人話風流老大還堪恃，試睇菊殘猶有傲霜枝。身世係咁飄蓬重爭乜硬氣，好似水流花謝渺渺無期。相思萬種從今止，無的味嘆聲容乜易，等我帶淚和情訴吓舊時。」

As I clasp the guitar in my hands, a hundred emotions thrill me with sadness.
Why, when age comes, is not passion consonant therewith?
Once youth has gone, its very mention irks.
If you mention it, yourself you feel the sting.
Till now infatuate I was loth to pay heed hereto:
But to-day I myself abhor the sight of my complexion in the mirror.
Men say, when wanton pleasure grows old, it still merits reliance:
For, lo! The bruised chrysanthemum has still some stalks that defy the frost.
The world corporeal wags waveringly, why strive to fulfil my ambition?
As the tide’s ebbing, so the flowers’ fading is without bound or date.
A myriad phases of affection cease from to-day.
All is savourless.
How easy it is to sigh!
Wait till, with tears and passion intermingled, I rehearse the story of past time.

2. 「容乜易過，在青樓歌舞歡場事事休。薄命紅頻天注就，減低情性學吓溫柔。至此春烟迷住章臺柳，任佢三起三眠總不愧羞。往日迎新今日送舊，蝶愛尋香點自由。只估買斷青春拏住手，綠雲深鎖不知秋。再冇話楊花重曉得去憐身後。心想透，恰被風拖逗，敢就化作浮萍逐水流。」

How easy is sin amid green arbours!
In the joyous abode of song and dance all traffic has ceased.
Heaven ordained that frail should be the fortune of rosy girlhood:
Therefore, I refrain and keep low my passionate nature; I copy gentleness for the nonce.
Till now the spring-vapours had bewitched the Chong-thoi Willow.
Though thrice a day she rise to receive her guests and thrice she sleep with them, still she feels no shame.
In the past she greeted new lovers, now she speeds the old.
Butterflies love quest of fragrance; how can they be content?
I do but think that, if I buy up the green spring and take hold thereof,
Then, even when the gray clouds lock close together, I shall know no autumn.
Again, say not that willow-blossoms can find pity after their bodies have died.
My heart has though this through.
As I speak I have suffered the wind to bear me along:
Thus I am transformed into duckweed drifting adown the stream.

3. 「容乜易，醉酒千盅，情有咁深時味有咁濃。我想冤家必定係前生種，種穩情根不肯放鬆。酒邊都要人珍重，莫話魂迷心亂兩下交融。大抵歡場過眼渾如夢，席散人歸萬事空。遁盞傳杯心事重，問你面上桃花有幾耐紅。今日霞觴滿酌唔知憑誰共，唉中乜用，未飲心先痛。一生遺恨誤入花叢。」

How easy it is to get drunken on a thousand bowls of wine,
When passion is so deep, and the flavour is so strong!
Methinks, the seed of distress surely is planted in a former life.
He whose love is firmly rooted will be loth to let its hold grow lax.
In his cups a man should prize soberness as a jewel.
Say not that, when soul is bemused and heart in riot, then man and woman are in harmony.
In fine, the place of joy is turbid as a dream in its transience.
When tables are drawn and guests go home, a myriad matters grow empty of import.
In bearing round the wineglass and offering the cup, emotion is intense.
But, prithee, how long will the bloom of the peach-blossom redden in my cheeks?
To-day I know not whom I can trust to drain with me the flushed bumper and the brimming wine.
Ah! Where is the use?
E’er ever I drink, my heart is sore.
‘Tis a whole life’s legacy of sorrow, to have erred into the company of flowers.

4. 「容乜易，放柳邊船，木蘭雙樂載住神仙。東風為我行方便，吹得情哥到我面前。鴛鴦共宿人人羨，好似兩顆明珠一線穿。滿意東君常見面，今生還結再生緣。正係藕絲縛住荷花片，一體同根冇乜變遷。唔想帆影就隨湘水轉。難遂願，線緊風箏斷。虧我流落在呢處天涯實在可憐。」

How easy it is to unmoor the ship from the willow bank!
Both oars are of maple wood: the crew are fairies.
The east wind blows favourably for me:
It wafts my lover to my presence.
The teal rest together: all men envy them.
As two beads of bright pearl are traversed by a single thread,
So my whole desire is ever to see my master’s face.
This life knots upon us the doom of our after-life,
Even as the root-fibres of the lily are bound up in the same birth as the petals of the lily-flower.
Since then one body with a single root abides unchanged,
I never thought that the shadow of your sail would thus turn the windings of the River Song.
‘Tis hard to fulfil my wish.
As the kite snaps its string, when taut,
So you have jilted me to fall here at heaven’s verge. Truly ‘tis pitiful!

5. 「容乜易散，彩雲飛。春帆頃刻就要分離。誰人肯願分連理，事到其間點樣子設施？早知割愛唔易，何苦當初一力護持，今日送別無言惟有淚人折盡柳干枝。長亭自古傷心地，你話後會何曾有定期。〔糹凡〕扇預防秋後棄，唉嗟命鄙，風流雲散易，箇陣欲捨難分恨亦己遲。」

How easy it is for the gay clouds to scatter and fly!
In an instant the spring sail must depart.
What man is he who fain would part branches that are intertwined?
When such a crisis comes, what measures can avail?
Betimes I learned that to sever love was no light or easy task.
Why did you at the first protect me with might and main?
Yet to-day have I sped your parting, wordless but in tears.
The parting lover snaps off a thousand willow-twigs:
And from of yore the road-stage has been a place of heart-ache.
Will any time, say you, hereafter be appointed for our meeting?
Since silk fans tarry their disuse at autumn’s close,
Ah! I groan for my niggard fate.
‘Tis easy for the wanton clouds to scatter.
But in that day, though you wish to go, it will be hard to part: even regret will come too late.

6. 「容乜易老！鬂蒼蒼，關心許記往日珠娘。秋風陣陣添惆悵，白滿船頭一夜霜。四條絃澁難成響，總係彈到情深怕惹恨長。淪落幾人同我一樣，不記起從前就不會慘傷。好花畢竟成飄蕩，叫我怎能禁得箇的蝶浪蜂狂。此後我孤零無乜倚向。唉！低自唱。還了風流賑，虧我手抱琵琶悶對夕陽。」

How easy it is for the hair on either temple to grow grey with age!
Is there any man whose heedful heart remembers the Pearl maid of bygone days?
Autumn winds time on time increase annoyance.
‘Tis a single night’s frost that has shrouded all the ship’s prow with white.
The lute’s four strings are dried up: scarce can a tone be drawn from them.
Yet, though you swept your passion’s depth from out the chords, I fear you will but tinge your mind with enduring grief.
How many another has sunk into my plight!
They that remember not the past, are neither bruised nor wounded.
The end of a fair flower is but to be littered by the wind at last.
Tell me, how can I hold in check the vagrant butterflies and the mad bees?
Hereafter I shall be forlorn with naught whereon to rely.
Ah! I sing softly to myself.
I have paid off my debt of wanton joy:
Yet you flout me, till, clasping the guitar in my hands, I sadly face the sunset.

1. 「烟花地，想起就心慈，中年情事點講得過人知。好命鑄定仙花亦都唔種在此地，縱然誤種亦指望有的更移。今日花柳風波我都嘗到透味，況且歡場逝水更易老花枝。既係命薄如花亦都偷怨吓自己，想到老來花謝總要穩的挨依。唉我想花謝正望到人地塟花亦都係希罕事，總要花開佢憐憫我正叫做不負佳期。細想年少未得登科到老難以及第，況且秋來花事總總全非。今日我命鑄定為花就算開落過世，你試問花，花呀誰愛你？佢都冇的偏私。花若有情就要情到底，風雲月露正係我地情痴。至到人地賞花憎愛我都不理。仙種子，休為凡心死。我為偶還花債故此暫別吓瑤池。」

The land of flowers and vapour! When I think thereof, my heart goes out in loathing.
How can I tell men the love-story of my middle-age?
Had good fate cast me in the mould of a fairy flower, I had not been planted in this soil.
But since I am planted amiss, I hope for change and transfer.
To-day I have tasted the flavour alike of flower and willow, wind and wave.
Moreover, if the haunts of pleasure are drained dry, the flower-stalk will but shrivel the more easily.
Since then my fate is frail as a flower, I secretly bemoan myself:
I reflect that age comes and flower wither, therefore I must find something whereon I may rely.
Ah! Methinks that, when flowers wither, there is hope that men will bury them: yet even that is rare.
So, while the bloom is full-blown, he should pity me; thus he would not spurn beauty’s season.
I bethink me that he who does not matriculate in youth, will find it hard in old age to gain his degree.
Moreover, when autumn comes the plight of flowers is all, all evil.
To-day fate has destined me to be a flower; therefore meseems in bud and fall of blossom I shall pass my life.
Ask of flowers: — ‘O Flowers, who loves you?’
Flowers have nothing selfish in their nature.
If flowers have love, then they must love to the end.
Wind, cloud, moon, dew, — of such stuff are our infatuate passions.
I set no store by the hate or love of those who praise flowers:
For magic is my seed.
Stay then! Nor die for the sake of vulgar passion.
Because I chance to be paying my flowr-debts, hence am I for the nonce cut off from fairyland.

2. 「烟花地，苦海茫茫，從來難穩箇有情郎。迎新送舊不過還花賬，有誰惜玉與及憐香？我在風流陣上係咁從頭想，有個知心人仔害我縱死難忘。有陣丟疎外面似極無心向，獨係心中懷念你我暗地淒涼，今晚寂寥空對住烟花上。唉！休要亂想！共你有心都是惡講，我斷唔孤負你個一點情長。」

In the land of flower and smoke there is a wide, wide sea of bitterness.
Though you search, yet it is hard to find a lover therein.
‘Tis but payment of our flower-debts, to welcome the new and speed the old.
Are there any who pity gems and grieve for fragrance?
In the war of wanton joy, I bethought myself from the first,
That, though my sweetheart wrong me, yet till death I shall scarce forget him.
At times I spurn him: my face shows no outward sign of my thought’s trend.
Only in my heart, when I think of you, I suffer hidden misery.
To-day in loneliness I vainly turn towards smoke and flower.
Ah! Stop these wild desires!
Though my heart is one with yours, I find it hard to speak.
I trow, I will not flout your constant love.

「花有淚，月本無恨。月呀，你照見我地花容瘦有幾分？可惜月呀你有圓時我地花總係會褪，就俾你桂香輪滿都係有影無根。我想花信不過二十四番，容乜易盡遇著風狂雨驟敢就斷送了我終身。個陣你在九霄雲外縱有心相印，總係東西尋逐點顧得我地墮溷飄茵。莫謂過眼烟花無乜要緊，獨惜被人攀折未免想起吓來因。呢陣雲路係咁迢遙，我亦知相託都冇分。唉！心不忍。試把嬋娟問，問你廣寒宮有幾濶咯，點塟得咁多冇主花魂？」

The flowers have tears: the moon herself is scathless.
O Moon, thou seest how shrunken our flower-face has grown.
Pity that when thou, O Moon, art full, we flowers are wont to fade.
So, though thy cassia be fragrant and thine orb be round, thou hast a shadow but no root in reality.
Methinks the season of blossoming is but one score and four solar terms: how easy it is, then, to reach the end thereof!
The shock of wild wind and quick rain drives broken my whole body.
In that day thou, in the ninth heaven beyond the clouds, still wilt bear the heart’s mutual imprint.
Albeit thou seek east and west, how canst thou save us from falling in a littered mat of petals?
Say not that the transient flowers and vapour are of no moment.
I only grieve that I have suffered men to pluck me down and snap me: I cannot but think of my past fate.
Now the cloud-roads are so distant, that I know entreaty to be useless.
Ah! My heart is impatient.
Let me ask of the lovely Maid in the Moon:
‘Prithee, how spacious is the mansion of Kwong Hon Kung, that it can entomb so many masterless flower-spirits?’

我唔願照鏡又不想貪花，鏡光花影都係過眼烟霞。鏡會憐香就愛花作畫，花容偷睡就在鏡裡為家。有陣花能解語請入屏間話，幸得花愛臨敉又向住他。若係有鏡無花春色就減價，若係有花無鏡又怕春信難查。點得鏡係咁長圓花又不嫁。唉！真定假？你睇桂影長春愛任月華。

I am loth to look in my mirror: I would fain not envy the flowers.
The flowers’ shadow on the bright mirror is but as a transient rainbow haze.
The mirror pities fragrance, therefore it loves flowers to form its picture.
The flowers’ eyes have secretly fallen asleep, thus making the mirror their home.
Sometimes the flowers can converse, then I bid them speak with me in the pier-glass.
If by good chance the flowers love waiting at toilet, so may we gaze upon them.
Have you a mirror, but no flowers? Then spring’s colour loses in value.
Have you flowers, but no mirror? Then spring-love’s faith will be hard to test.
How comes it that the mirror’s orb is always perfect, yet the flowers are not wed?
Ah! Is it true or false?
Look you! The cassia shadow in eternal spring loves ever the splendour of the moon.

「紛紛酒淚，淚盡楊花，你有幾多愁恨記在心懷。我想別樣花飛無乜掛帶，單係你替人承受呢一段薄命冤家。佢話香國係咁繁華真正冇價，點忿俾狂風吹散咁就賤過泥沙？你睇月呀係咁樣團圓都會變卦，縱有千金難買九十韶華。我若勸你勘破春心唔恨亦假，你縱春愁如海亦都枉自嗟呀。不若我苦命楊花同你哭罷。唉！風任擺墮絮無心化，等我替你萬花垂淚酒偏天涯。」

At random rain my tears: my tears all fall for willow-blossoms.
How many a sorrow and regret have you recorded in your hear of hearts!
Methinks that I reck nothing, when other flowers are blown:
Since it is you alone who for men’s sake suffer distress from fortune’s frailty.
They say the land of fragrance is so resplendent that truly it passes price:
How, then, can I tamely let the mad wind blow its flowers petal from petal, making it viler than mud or sand?
See! The moon’s orb is so round, yet must its outline change –
A thousand pieces of gold cannot buy ninety years of youthfulness.
Did I counsel you to test and destroy your spring-love, ‘twere false to say you would not bear me the grudge.
You open the flood-gates of sorrow: but vain are your sighs.
‘Twere better that I, an ill-fated willow-blossom, should join my sobs with yours.
Ah! Let the wind whirl!
The fallen catkins have no wish for change.
Stay! Let my tears flow for you, ye myriad flowers, like rain o’er the whole horizon.

「多情雁，一對向南飛。雁呀！秋風何苦重咁遠飄離。你在江湖留落尚有雌雄侶，虧我影隻形單異地棲。風急衣單無路寄，寒衣做起誤落空閨。日日望到夕陽我就愁倍起，只見一圍衰柳鎖住長隄。又見人影一鞭殘照裡，幾回錯認是我郎歸。唉我思想起，想必紅塵擔誤了你。點得雲歛風晴共你際會期。」

The love-lorn geese fly southward two by two.
O geese! Why will ye still be wafted on autumn winds away so far?
Denizens of river and lake, ye ever nest male and female together.
But my love flouts me by sojourning a lonely shadow and a forlorn shape in a strange land.
The wind is fierce: his raiment scanty: yet I have no way by which to send him more:
His winter clothes I made are left wasted in an empty chamber.
Day by day I look towards the evening sun: then my grief is multiplied.
I do but see a fence of drooping willows locking in the long dyke:
And I have seen the whip-like shadow of a man in the fading daylight:
Many a time did I mistake it for my lover coming home.
Ah! I fall a-thinking.
I bethink me that it is indeed the red mundane dust which has clogged you.
O that, when clouds are all ingathered, and winds are still, I might one day rejoin you!

「傳書雁，共我帶書還。唔見佢書還你便莫箇番。今日不見回書大抵佢心事都有限，抑或你帶書唔仔細失落鄉關。縱使佢愁極寫書心事懶，有書唔寄你便達一紙空函。等我一張白紙當佢言千萬，二人心照盡在不言間。呢陣不見回書空見雁返。唉！雁O罷雁，你亦不必傳書柬。等我照樣不回書信你便去見箇箇薄情男。」

O carrier goose! Bring me an answering letter!
If I see no answering letter from him, thou wert better not return.
To-day I see no reply: maybe his love has in fine its limit:
Or perchance thou bearest letters carelessly, and hast lost them in country-side or at city-barrier.
Should he be in deep sorrow, but indolent in writing letters;
Then, if he has unsent letters written in his mind, bring me the empty cover.
So will I, spreading out the blank paper, imagine it holds ten thousand, thousand words:
For each of our two hearts is as a mirror to the other’s thoughts, even though no words be spoken.
This time I see no message of reply: letterless I see the goose return.
Ah! Goose; ah! Goose!
Thou art no certain presage of a letter-card.
Wait! I will likewise write him no reply: go now, visit my fickle lover!

「孤飛雁，驚醒獨眠人，起來愁對月三更。擔頭細把征源問，你欲往何方得咁夜深。雌雄有伴你便跟應緊，呢陣影隻形單問你點樣子去尋？我地天涯人遠難親近，有翼都難飛去爪得佢親。無計夢中尋到箇薄行，又俾你哀聲撩醒未講得幾句時文。捨得帶佢一紙書來我亦唔捨得把你怨恨，累得我醒後無書夢裡又別君。意欲話好夢可以再尋我還向夢穩，又怕茫茫烟水渺渺無憑。唉！真正肉緊，凄涼誰見憫？呢陣衡陽聲斷問你點覓同羣？」

The goose flying alone startles into wakefulness the solitary sleeper.
Arising at the third watch I gaze sadly at the moon.
Then raising my head I question closely the nomad goose:
Whither away at dead of night?
Hen-bird and cock-bird ever fly together: thou, then, shouldst follow near thy mate.
But now thy shadow is solitary: thou appearest alone: prithee, what manner of quest is thine?
We, whose lover is far distant at heaven’s verge, find it hard to meet:
Though we had wings, it still were hard to swoop and catch him in our talons.
No means have I of finding yon truant in my dreams:
And though with doleful cry thou stir me to wakefulness, yet brief are thy tidings.
Didst thou bring a letter from him, then I should be loth to blame thee.
Thou hast done amiss in waking me, yet bringing no letter: thou hast parted me from my lord in dreams.
Fain would I, if I found again a good dream, go in my lover’s quest a-dreaming.
But I fear that in the vast waste of vapour and water there will be no vestige at all.
Ah! Truly my flesh is eager.
Who feels pity for my anguish?
The sound of this band of geese has faded over Hang-yong: prithee, how wilt thou find the whole troop?

「樓頭月，掛在畫欄邊。月呀！做乜照人離別偏要自己團圓？學你一月一遍團圓你妹重唔係乜願，何況天涯搖隔愈見心酸。人話好極都要丟開唔好咁綣戀，大抵久別相逢重好過在前。雖則我心事係咁丟開總係情實在惡斷，第一夜來重難禁得夢魂癲。我想死別生離亦唔差得幾遠，但得早一日逢君自願命短一年。天呀，雖乃係好事多磨亦該留我一綫。唉！做乜唔得就算。不若當初唔見面，免得我一生遺恨。月呀！你對住我長圓。」

The moon above the gable seems riveted in the side of the pictured balcony.
O Moon! Why, when thou shinest upon men’s partings, is thy own orb so perversely round?
Yet I am loth even to be like thee, whose consummation comes but once a month:
How much more, then, is my heart embittered because my love and I are set poles apart?
Men say a chattel, however good, must be cast aside: ‘tis ill to dote thus upon anything:
For that the meeting which ends long parting knits love closer than in bygone days.
Though then my heart be thus spurned, yet it were hard indeed to sever my love.
For, chiefly, ‘tis hard at nightfall to withhold my dreaming soul from madness.
Methinks death’s parting and severance in life do not differ widely:
Therefore could I meet my lord a day earlier, then I would fain suffer my life to be shortened by a year.
Heaven! Though indeed good things are but the more ground down by evil, yet thou shouldest leave me a thread of hope.
Ah! Why can I not realize my reckoning?
‘Twere better at the first never to have seen your face.
So should I have been spared a bequest of lifelong sorrow, while the moon constantly grows full before my eyes.

「天邊月，似簾鈎，泛在長江任去流。月呀！你有團圓人自會等候，總係眼前虧缺恨難收。我想人世咁長唔得咁就手，大抵好極人生都有一樣愁。你睇文君新寡重去尋佳偶，班姬團扇尚悲秋。唉！心想透。待等八月中旬候。月呀，總有一箇團圓却在後頭。」

The moon at heaven’s verge is like a sickle hook;
Its shimmer floats on the long river and, nothing loth, flows down the stream.
O Moon! You have a time when your orb will be full: men can await that day.
Yet it is hard to check regret for the wane we see before our eyes.
Methinks, since human generations are so long-lived, they cannot all be towardly:
At its close a man’s life, though goodly, yet has one phase of sorrow.
Look you! Man-kwan, new widowed, still goes in quest of a good match.
On the round fan of Pan Ke a lament for autumn is still inscribed.
Ah! My heart has pondered this throughly.
Wait till the mid-decade of the eighth month is past.
O Moon! Thereafter your orb will surely grow round once more.

無情月挂在奈何天，思嫌月照住我孤眼。月呀，你有缺時還有復轉，做乜我郎一去得咁心堅。哀求月老為我行方便，照見我即試問一句，睇佢點樣子回言。若是佢心歪唔記念，呌佢手按住良心睇一吓天。做人唔好做得咁心肝變，你唔記如今亦都記吓在前。為郎終日腸牽斷，呌我點能學得箇箇朋裡嬋娟。捨得相逢學月敢易見箇無情面，我唔怕路遠，定要去到問明佢心事見點。免使虛擔人世呢段假意姻緣。

The loveless moon is set in the inexorable sky.
When I think of you, I am loth that the moon should shine on my lonely sleep.
O Moon! At times thou dost dwindle; at times thou art full again:
Why then does my spouse, once gone, harden ever his heart towards me?
Plaintively I entreat the old man in the moon to come to my succour:
Even, when shining upon my lord, to ask him a question and see how he will retort.
If his heart is awry, and he remembers me no more,
Bid him lay hand on heart and look up to heaven.
Are you a man? Then you should not be so fickle of heart and mood.
You remember not the present, remember at least the past.
My heart is all day long racked in suspense because of my lord.
Tell me, how can I rival the graceful maiden in the moon?
If, when we two meet, I could see his heartless face as easily as does the moon,
I should not fear the length of the road:
Certes, I should go ask him plainly concerning his heart’s purpose,
Lest I vainly flaunt in this mortal world a pretence of married love.

多情月挂在畫樓邊。月呀，你照人離別又似可人憐。人在天涯你妹心隔一綫。萬里情思兩地挂牽。我日日望君，君呀唔見你轉。雙魚無路把書傳。月月係咁月圓，你妹經看過幾遍？你在他鄉曾否盼妹嬋娟？我想出路與及在家家都係同一樣挂念。唉，偷偷自怨，願郎你心事莫變。到底能相見箇陣花底同君再看過月圓。

The love-lorn moon seems riveted to the side of the painted chamber.
O moon! In pity, belike, dost thou shine upon the partings of men.
My lover is at heaven’s verge: yet the servant’s heart seems parted but a hair’s breadth from him.
For our love-thoughts, though a myriad miles in length, are drawn tight at either end.
Day by day I think of my lord. Lord! I see not your return.
The twin carp have no way of posting to me your letters.
Month after month the moon grows round: how often have I seen it so!
In yon other land, have your eyes yearned for my grace and beauty?
Methinks that gad-about and stay-at-home have but the same memory.
Ah! I repine secretly.
I would, sir, that your heart’s purpose may not change.
So at the last we shall see each other.
Then, beneath the flowers, you and I will again watch the moon grow ground.

春果有恨，柳豈無知。柳呀，你日日係咁牽情到底有乜了期。春來偏人意，可恨春風如剪又剪不斷情絲。累得長亭病馬鞭唔起。又累得繡閣臨籹懶去畫眉。正係春夢一場都交俾過你，替人憔悴枉費你心機。 恐怕年年捱不慣箇的秋風氣，青黃滿面瘦骨難支。箇陣意欲尋春春又不理，情薄過紙，愁種在相思地。柳呀，勸你生長在人間切莫去綰 箇種別離。

Spring indeed has regrets: can the willow fail to know this?
Willow-tree! Day by day thou art so apt to allure passion: what in fine will be the end?
Spring’s advent perforce tinges the thoughts of those who are parted.
Pity that the spring wind, though scissor-keen, cannot sever love’s silken thread.
But it impedes the jaded nag at the road-stage, so that the whip cannot stir him.
It impedes the maiden at her toilet in the broidered chamber, so that she is loth to go paint her eyebrows.
Truly I have handed over my spring-dreams to your trust.
Vainly you waste your forethought in random sympathy.
I fear that though year follow year, you will not inure yourself to the breath of the autumn-wind.
All your face is green and yellow: your lean limbs can scarce sustain you.
In that day you will desire to find the spring: but spring will pay you no heed.
Love is thinner than paper.
Sorrow’s seed is sown in the ground of mutual thought.
Willow tree! Though born and bred among men, do not go link thyself with such as love and leave thee.

花本快活，為月正添愁。月呀，你敢樣子憐香就會把我命收。我想春信尚有愆期，唔得咁就手。共佢約定月月中旬都肯為我留。 月呀，你敢樣子多情，又怕我地紅粉不偶。得你月圓我地花又謝咯，你話幾世唔修。月呀，一年四季多少憐香友。邊一争鮮花唔愛月，你把佢香偷。有陣香魂睡醒月重明如畫，總係對影憐香倍易感秋。點得月你夜夜都會長圓花又開箇不透。唉唔知真定假柳。啫但得係就好咯，自願世世為花種在月裡頭。

Flowers in themselves are gay: from the moon advenes their sorrow.
O Moon! Dost thou so pity fragrance? And wilt thou take away my life?
Methinks that spring-love’s tryst is often mistimed: occasion is not so ready to hand.
I have made a covenant with my lover that he should bide my coming in the mid-decad of each month.
O Moon! Art thou so full of passion? And fearest thou that we playthings of rouge and powder will never wive?
When thou, O Moon, art round, we flowers die: how many past lives (say you) have we spent unsanctified?
O Moon! In the year’s four seasons, how many are the friends who pity our fragrance?
What fresh and dainty floweret but loves the moon to steal its perfume?
Sometimes, when fragrance wakens from her dream, the moon is still bright as the noonday.
Yet whoso laments fragrance in face of her shadow, feels but more easily the sad influence of autumn.
Would that thou, O Moon, night after night wert always round, and that flowers once full blown never passed away!
Ah! I know not whether the evergreen is true or sham emblem of our passion.
But, if true, then all is well. Myself would fain, life after life, be a flower planted in the moon.

「真真正累世，乜得你咁收人。枉費你妹從前個一片心。多端扭計你妹情願受困，思前想後試睇待薄過你唔曾。做乜分離咁耐哩就學王魁咁薄行？我定要問明邊一個唆攪你定係自已生心。兵行詭路你妹心唔忿。唉！情可恨。一刀斬，斬斷兩橛丟開，你妹唔使掛恨。啐捨得我待郎敢樣子，心事愁冇個至愛情人。

Truly, truly it is a hurtful world! Why are you so eager to pay off old scores?
Vainly you have wasted the love my heart once bore you.
Because of my many plans for meeting you, I was fain to endure distress.
Recall the past! Look into the future! See whether I have ever slighted you.
Why, then, after so brief a parting, do you rival Wong Fui in fickleness?
I must needs ask plainly who set you on, or whether in your own self this spirit took its birth.
Soldierlike you set an ambush; my heart is ill-content thereat.
Ah! Passion is noisome.
With one knife-stroke I will cut us in twain and be rid of you; then I also need not brood in regret.
So! Had I given another the heart which I gave you, should I be sorrowing for lack of a true lover?

「心心點忿，拆散絲羅。怨一句紅顏怨一句我哥。世界做得咁情長做乜偏偏冇結果，就把舊時個種恩愛付落江河。共你相好到入心又被朋友架禍，因愛成仇你妹見盡許多。試睇人地點樣子待君，君呀你就回想吓我。從頭想過正好共我丟疏。天呀，保佑邊一個薄情就好邊一個折墮。唉！真正冇錯，免得使枉死含冤受此折磨。」

My heart, my heart, how canst thou be tranquil? The silken thread is snapped in twain.
In a verse I mourn for the rosy bride; in a verse I mourn for my bridegroom.
The world can show such lasting love; why, then, must its harvest ever and ever be sterile?
You have taken and thrown into the river the mode of our old affection.
I kept pleasant companionship with you till my heart was pierced; but it was my friend who wedded me to woe.
Love consummated in hate, this I have often seen.
Consider how men treat you, my lord; then let my lord turn and think of me.
Think all over from the beginning! Then, well-a-day, spurn me from you.
Heaven help me! Whoso is light of love, him bring to ruin.
Ah! Herein truly is no mistake.
Save me from the affliction of useless death, as I choke in anguish.

花貌咁好做乜日日咁含愁，人如花面却為郎羞。咁好春光勸你唔好洩漏，把人虧負要想起吓前頭。情字個種深傷你妹平日捱够，一場春夢點估玉今休。往日估你一個真情今日知到係假柳。聽人冷語拆散我鸞儔，花房香膩邿被蜂侵透，做乜銀河得渡就把鵲橋收？如果你咁樣子做人你妹真正惡受。唉！我偷睇透。你心腸唔似舊君呀，你若係冇厘聲氣我死都要追求。

The face of flowers is so fair; why then day by day must it mask their sorrow?
A girl, though flower-faced, in very deed must blush before my lord.
Since your spring’s radiance is so fair, I warn you let it not wane in waste.
E’er flouting me, you should reflect on former days;
How that I have suffered deep wounds enough, such as the word ‘passion’ strikes.
Could I think that my spring-dream would end today?
In bygone time I deemed you true-hearted; now I know you are but a sham willow.
I hear men’s chill words saying that we shall be torn apart as the peacock from his mate.
The flowers’ arbour, fragrant and lustrous, has in very deed been rifled by the bees.
Why, when I have crossed the Silver River, do you withdraw the Crows’ Bridge?
If thus you act, your handmaid’s suffering will indeed be cruel.
Ah! Unseen I see you through.
Your heart’s passion is not as of old.
My lord, even though you say not a syllable to me, yet to death I must follow in your quest.

「同心草，種在迴欄。只望移根伴住牡丹，點想花事係咁闌珊，春事又咁懶慢。好似我共郎兩地隔斷關山，丟奴一去好似孤零雁。鴈O罷雁，你在地北天南重辛苦慣，我在青樓飄泊自見心煩。天寒袖薄倚凭闌干盼，西風簾捲自怨孤單。君呀，你在歡處不知奴咁切慘，我為你眼穿腸斷又廢寢忘飡。往日勸你在家唔好拆散，點估你江湖飄蕩不肯歸還。想起人地吤情哥咁聽妹諫，虧我諫哥唔聽敢就十指偷彈。今日人遠在天涯相見有限，時常珠泪濕透春衫。累得我多愁多病抱住琵琶嘆。唉！天又欲晚，夕照花容減。君呀，你摘花係咁容易要想吓種花難。」
Concord grass is planted by the ring-fence;
It does but hope to be uprooted and set as companion to the peony.
How could I think that business of flowers would be so distraught and business of spring-love so languid?
That, withal, barriers and mountains should part my lord from me?
You have jilted your handmaid; you have flown off like the mateless goose.
Goose, oh! Goose, in northern lands and under southern skies thou art inured to suffering;
But I, vagrant in love’s green arbour, know my own heart-burning
The sky is cold; my sleeves are thin; I rest on the fence looking for your coming.
The west wind blows; the blinds are rolled up; I feel my own loneliness.
You, sir, in the lap of joy know not that your maid is so distressed.
For you my eyes are strained, my heart is broken; I forfeit sleep and forget my food.
In bygone days I warned you, while at home, that it was ill for us to be dragged apart.
How could I know that, errant on river and lake, you would be loth to turn homewards?
I bethink me that other lovers are ready enough to heed the counsel of their mistress;
But you flout my counsel; so secretly I wring my hands.
Today my love is far away at heaven’s verge; rarely can we see each other.
Ever and anon the pearling tears bedew my spring garment.
Thus I am afflicted with more sorrow and more sickness; I sigh as I clasp the guitar to my breast.
Ah! Heaven yearns for nightfall.
At evening the mirror shows that my flower-face is impaired.
My lord! You may pluck blossoms right easily; but think how hard it is to plant the flower.

「瀟湘雁，寄盡有情書。衡陽消息俾做何如。雁呀，你聲聲觸起奴愁緒，虧我夜來殘夢捱到五更餘。春衫濕透離人淚，叫我點能等得合浦還珠，為郎寫不盡相思句。唉！情又不死，握手人何處？雁呀，我個知心人去你為我帶呢首斷陽詞。」

Ye geese of the River Siu and Song, that post all love-letters,
How stands the news from Hang-young?
O geese! With your clack and cackle you thrill into memory the fibres of my grief.
You flout me so that, when night comes on, I endure evil dreams beyond the fifth watch.
My spring garment is wet through with tears for my absent love.
Tell me, how can I wait till the Hop-pho River again yields pearls?
I cannot write in full the love-thoughts which I cherish for my lord.
Ah! Passion is undying.
Where is he who clasped my hand?
Ye geese! He who knew my heart is gone! Bring ye to him, for my sake, these heart-broken verses!

• 「難忍泪，洒濕蓮枝。記得與君聯句在曲欄時。你睇粉墻尚有郎君字，就係共你倚欄相和個首藕花詩。今日花又復開，做乜人隔兩地。未曉你路途安否，總冇信歸期。蓮筆叫我點書呢段長恨句？愁懷寫不盡好似未斷荷絲。今日遺恨在呢處曲欄提起往事。唉，想起就氣。睇住殘荷凋謝咯，我就想到世事難為。」

Tears are hard to check; they sprinkle with moisture the lotus-stalks.
I remember how I wove my words with yours, when we stood by the ring-fence.
Look you! The whitewashed wall still keeps the lines which my lord wrote,
Even that lotus-flower song which, leaning against the fence, we sang together, you an I.
To-day the flowers reopen; why, then, are we mortals apart in two places?
I know not yet whether you fare ill or well upon your road; for never a day has brought home a letter from you.
How can you give me cause to indite with lotus-pen words of such lasting sorrow?
I cannot write fully of my heart’s woe; it is endless as the unbroken lily fibre.
To-day regret broods o’er me here at the ring-fence, while I mention bygone things.
Ah! Memory brings sighing.
As I watch the bruised lily wither, so I muse on the hardness of this world’s way.

《薄命多情》 Fate and passion
招子庸作， 金文泰譯

天呀你生得我咁薄命，乜事又生得我咁多情！情字重起番來萬事都盡輕。我想人世但得一面相逢都係前世鑄定。況且幾年共你相好點捨一吓就分清？人地見我待你咁長情都重愁我會短命，我想情長就係命短亦分所當應。呢吓萬樣可以放心單怕郎冇定性，怕你累我終身零落好似水浮萍。點得撇却呢處煙花尋一個樂境？個陣你縱然把我虧負我都誓願唔聲。想我女子有咁真心做乜月你唔共我照應？重要多煩你撮合呢變免得使我咁零丁。我兩個痴夢痴得咁交關未知何日正醒？唉！真正臖在過共你同交頸，做乜雍長望短，大事總唔成。
Heaven! Thou didst beget me so frail of fortune; why, then, hast thou begotten me so full of passion?
Weigh the word ‘passion’; a myriad things beside it are utter lightness.
Methinks that in this world of men, to meet but once, this also is foredoomed in an earlier life.
Withal, how can I endure in a moment to part wholly from you, after so many years of amity?
Men, seeing that I bear you such lasting love, grieve that my life may be cut short.
Yet methinks, if my love be lasting, then, though my life be short, it is as fate ordained.
Now in a myriad matters I am light-hearted; I do but fear that you, sir, lack constancy.
I fear you will do me hurt, leaving all my body lorn as duckweed littered upon the water.
Would I might efface all memory of this haunt of vapour and of flowers, seeking out a happier region!
Then, though you flout me, yet I swear silence.
Bethink thee that I, a girl, am pure-hearted; why, O Moon, wilt thou do me no kindness?
Still must I trouble the with prayer to unite us this once, lest I be utterly forlorn.
Our two infatuate dreams have so enthralled my senses, that I know not when I shall awake.
Ah! Truly I am a-fevered.
In bygone days I clasped you round the neck.
Why, then, as I look far and near, is the main chance still unconsummate?

1. 花本一樣，點曉得世態炎涼。對住情人分外香，可惜花有妙容難道奴就薄相。做乜看花人懶看妾人忙。花開𡻕𡻕都是花模樣，花亦憑天為佢主張。可惜我在花月場中捱盡的苦況，就冇一箇惜花人似得水咁情長。溫香美滿都是成虛想，花亦似憐人孤，寂伴佢成雙。人話奴貌勝花都是過獎，就俾你如花美眷，願亦難償。花花世界都是情根蔃，花敢樣重還不了風流賬。點得我早日還完花債，共你從良。
Flowers in themselves are ever the same. How can they understand that the world’s favour blows now hot, no cold?
Wondrously fragrant are flowers in a lover’s eyes.
Alas! Though flowers have marvellous beauty, it were hard to say that your handmaid is of mean countenance.
Yet why must he who looks at flowers be languid; while he who looks at me is impassioned?
It is the fashion of flowers to open year by year;
Moreover, flowers rely on heaven to determine their destiny.
Pity that, amid the domain of flowers and moon, I endure anguish to the end.
So then never a man, who pities flowers, is as constant in his passion as the water.
Gentleness, beauty, and fragrance full-blown, are but the consummation of a vain desire.
Flowers, as though pitying men’s desolation, go with men as their mates.
‘Tis said that your handmaid’s face is fairer than a flower; but too high is such praise;
Yet, though one be beautiful as a flower, ‘tis hard to fuly gratify desire for union.
The would of flowers, aye of flowers, gives root to passion.
Such are the flowers.
I have not even yet repaid my debt of wanton joy.
Would that in my life-time I could quit the score, and follow virtue with you.
2. 花本一樣，憂樂佢都唔知。佢話落花還有再開時，恐防春老東君棄，落後焉能再上枝。來春雨露自有來春意，若再等到來春放也遲。雖係鮮花咁好未必無人理，須防開透被蝶蜂欺。你芳心檢點去尋知已，唔係噤你，深花人緊記總係百花頭上莫折錯薔薇。
Flowers in themselves are ever the same. They know not either grief or gladness.
‘Tis said that, though flowers fall, they open again in their season;
Yet timidly I beware lest, when spring grows old, the wind-prince of the East should spurn me;
Once fallen, how can I again be set upon my stalk?
Next spring’s rain and dew are doubtless the next spring’s care;
But, if once more you tarry the coming of green spring, then it will be too late.
Since I am fine as a fairy flower, maybe that some one will befriend me.
Needs must I take heed lest, when full-blown, I become the sport of butterflies.
Do you with pure purpose go warily in quest of a sweetheart.
I do not deceive you.
Ye that reach out to cull flowers, remember!
Though one among a hundred blossoms, pluck not in mistake the cinnamon rose.

1. 將我品性，想吓生平，對住皇天我要問佢一聲。做乜佢風中弱絮飛無定，做乜我水上殘花又洗不清。人在風月場中尋出樂境，做乜我在烟花叢裡築起愁城。好似小青照不出前生影，就把彌天幽怨一力擔承。實在無藥可醫心裏病。誰肯做証？我自招還自認。係唎攞人條命都係箇一點癡情。
With every faculty I reflect upon the ways of life.
As I face the royal heavens, I must ask them a question:
‘Why does my lover sway fitfully, like a weak willow catkin in the wind?
‘Why am I, a bruised flower on the water’s surface, washed yet not pure?
‘Since men seek amid domains of moon and wind for the happy land,
‘Why then do I, in this cluster of vapour and of flowers, build me up Sorrow Town?’
Thus am I ever as Siu Tsheng, who, since she saw not in her mirror the shadow of her former life,
Therefore made secret complaint to the vast heavens, asking their aid in her support.
Verily no medicine can heal disease within the heart.
Who will be my witness?
I myself confess my malady; then I myself take knowledge thereof.
Yes, the murderer of man’s life is his own insensate passion.
2. 真正攞命，却被情牽，一緘春恨唔知向乜誰言。雖乃係綠柳多情牽緊弱線，總係章臺春老望絕寒烟。縱有才人賞識我的春風面，皆因同病故此相憐。你話淪落在呢處風塵誰不厭？總係殘紅飛不出奈何天。敢就飄零一樣好似離巢燕。唉！風又亂扇，失路在林間剪，敢就一生埋沒塟在花田。
Truly I am lorn of life; in very deed I have suffered passion’s impulse.
I know not to whom I should tell my tale of spring regret.
Although the green willow’s bent be to draw upward the weak tendrils,
Yet mostly in Chong-thoi, when spring grows old, there is despair and chill poverty.
If there be wise men who praise our spring-wind faces,
All such have sympathy with us, because afflicted with disease like ours.
Who, say you, does not resent his fall to ruin in this place of wind and dust?
Mostly the bruised red blossom cannot flutter from beneath the inexorable sky;
Therefore it drifts desolate, as a swallow that has left her nest.
Ah! The wind is a wild fan.
I have lost my way and cut me a path through the jungle.
So all my life is a grave, entombed in a field of flowers.
3. 真正攞命，却被情拏，共你海誓山盟箇一念差。回頭好夢都如畫，好似水中明月鏡中花。我梅魂虛把東風嫁，到底孤負多情萼綠華。累我不定心旌難以放下，料應條命死在君家。人前我亦未敢分明話。唉！君你偷偷想吓，底事真和假？我望你早乘秋水泛月中楂。
Truly I am lorn of life; in very deed I have suffered passion’s grip.
That with you I swore to the ocean and made oath to the mountain, herein was my mind’s error.
When the face turns backwards, a good dream seems but a picture,
Like to the bright moon on the water, or to the flower in the mirror.
Thought-pure as the plum-blossom, vainly have I wedded the east wind.
At the last my exceeding love is flouted, even as that of Ngok Luk-wa.
My hurt makes it the less easy for me to haul down my heart’s fluttering pennon.
Meseems I should have died in your home, my lord.
In men’s presence I dare not yet frankly speak my mind.
Ah! Lord, ponder secretly hereon;
Were our oaths true or false?
My hope is you will soon embark upon the raft which at autumn-tides moors in the moon.
4. 真正攞命，却被情招。虧我浮萍無定，係咁浪飄摇。君你青衫濕後，我就知音渺。縱有新詞，羞唱到《念奴嬌》。恨只恨楊柳岸邊風月易曉。你話何曾夜夜是元宵？月落烏啼人悄悄，真正雲散風流好似落潮。共你相思欲了唔知何时了？唉！心共照。苦把皇天叫。天呀，做乜箇一箇纒綿，就向箇一箇寂寥。
Truly I am lorn of life; in very deed I have suffered passion’s beckoning.
I am spurned to and fro like duckweed; thus it is that the waves tumble and toss me.
My lord, after your green garb was wet, then my sweetheart vanished.
Even had I a new song, I should blush to sing of Nim No the Beautiful.
I grieve, I do but grieve, that by the willow banks the transience of wind and moon is understood so easily.
Where, say you, has the full moon of the first month been a nightly visitant?
The moon sinks, the crow caws, men are full of care.
Truly the clouds scatter; joyance is like an ebbing tide.
Fain would I end my love for thee, but I know not when will be its ending.
Aye! Our hearts lok one into the other.
Bitterly I invoke the royal heavens.
Heaven! Why are these linked to those and then reft from them at the last?
5. 真正攞命，却被情魔。共你私情太重，都係錯在當初。今日芙蓉江上無人過，我玉鏡凴誰畫翠娥？呢回殘燈斜月愁無那，縱有睡魔迷不住我帶淚秋波。敢就雨暗巫山春夢破，好似鷓鴣啼切，苦叫哥哥。你一擔相思交俾過我。唉，真正恨錯！天呀，你亦該憐憫我地兩箇，做乜露水姻缘，偏會受此折磨？
Truly I am lorn of life; in very deed I have suffered passion’s frenzy.
The giant growth of my hidden love for you was wrong in its first beginning.
To-day no one passes over the lotus river.
On whom will my jade-mirror rely to paint my eyebrows with aniline?
Now the lamp is broken; the moon is waning; my sorrow knows no respite.
Even were there a sleep spirit, he could not charm away the tears that suffuse my autumn-glancing eyes.
So rain veils the Witches’ Mountain. My spring dream is destroyed.
Like the partridge, I cry, cry in rapid complaint.
You have handed over to me the burden of your love-thoughts.
Ah! Truly regret is wrong.
Heaven! Thou shouldst have pity on us both.
Why need the doom of a marriage span, brief as dew, force on us fate’s snapping and grinding?
6. 真正攞命，卻被情傷，做乜知心人去話偏長。話起別離兩字我就三魂蕩。第一傷心還在過後思量。今日秋水蒹葭勞妹盼望。所謂伊人在水一方。點得再會共哥有期你心有異向。等我生為蝴蝶死作鴛鴦。或者在地在天消此糵 賬。唉！心欲喪。不能無此想，你睇海天無際，只剩一寸柔腸。
Truly I am lorn of life; in very deed I have suffered passion’s wound.
Why, when my sweetheart is gone, do my words perforce grow garrulous?
When I say the two words – ‘Depart! Farewell!” – my three souls are dissolved;
Yet ever the sorest heart-would is afterthought.
To-day the autumn waters and the tall rushes move your maid to wistfulness.
The man for whom I yearn is afar on the high seas.
Would that, when again I meet you, that day might wean your heart from turning elsewhere!
Then we, though butterflies in life, would in death be as a brace of teal.
Maybe on earth or in heaven I shall cancel this debt of sin.
Ah! My heart is lost in yearning.
I cannot forgo this desire.
Look you! Sea and sky are illimitable; but an inch-space cabins my poor heart.

1. 人寂靜，月更光明。慾海情天箇的孽債未清。離合悲歡雖則係有定，做乜名花遭際總是凋零。你睇楊妃玉骨埋山徑，昭君留墓草青青。倫落小青悉弔影，十娘飲恨一水盈盈。大抵生長紅顔多半是薄命，何況我地青樓花粉更累在癡情。 既係做到楊花多半是水性。點學得出泥不染都重表自己堅貞？怕只怕悲秋桐葉飄金井，重要學寒梅偏捱得雪霜凌。我想花木四時都是樂境，總係愁人相對就會飲恨吞聲。唉！須要自醒。命薄誰堪証。不若向百花墳上訴吓生平。
Man is lonely, the moon shines all the brighter.
Those sinful debts of the sea of lust and of the heaven of love are still unpaid.
Since parting and meeting, sorrow and gladness, have their season;
Why is there at all times a blight on famous flowers?
Look you! Yong Fe’s jade bones were buried beside the mountain track.
The grass remainded green above Chhiu-kwan’s tomb.
In fine, from birth to womanhood more than the half among rosy girls are ill-fated;
How much the more are we, flowers and paint of love’s arbour, injured by lustful passions.
Since we are willow blossoms, more than the half of us are weak as water;
How can we learn to start stainless from the mire, ever displaying ourselves strong and pure?
I fear, I do but fear, that sad autumn will whirl the elm leaves into the golden well;
Therefore I must ever be as the winter plum-tree which steadfastly endures the spite of snow and frost.
Methinks in all four seasons flowers and trees are as a happy land.
Only sad men, in face of one another, gulp down their grief and stifle their words.
Ah! Needs must I myself be wakeful.
Who can bear witness to fortune’s frailty?
I were best recount my way of life o’er the Tomb of a Hundred Flowers.
2. 嗟怨薄命，對住垂楊，送舊迎新都係箇對媚眼一雙。見佢迎風嬝娜箇的纖腰樣，又見佢雙眉愁鎖恨偏長。青青弱質都是憑春釀，獨惜被人攀折你話怎不心傷？捨得我唔肯嫁東風，我心都冇異向，偏要替人擔恨在去國離鄉。若問情短情長都是冤孽賬。恐怕離愁唔捱得幾耐風光，虧我癡心一點付在陽闗上。輕蕩漾，身後唔禁想。不若替百花垂淚化作水面飄揚。
Lament fortune’s frailty as you face the weeping willow!
To speed the old and greet the new is alike the work of that pair of mincing eyes.
See how pliantly she greet the wind, in how slim-waisted a fashion!
And see how a frown locks together her eyebrows; certes, her discontent is long lasting.
Pure, pure, the delicate body relies on the spring for nurture.
Only I grieve that it has suffered men’s plucking and snapping; prithee, how should not my heart be wounded?
Though I be loth to wed the east-wind, yet my heart has no other bent.
Perforce must I bear men the grudge that I go from my country and forsake my village.
If you ask is passion short or long, in either case it is a debt of sin.
I fear the pain of parting; I cannot long endure its usages.
You flout my insensate love and drive me to the Yong Kwan gate.
Lightly drift my thoughts.
After the body has passed away, the heart’s desire is perishable.
I were best shed my tears for the Hundred Flowers, and be transformed into a willow windblown on the face of the water.
3. 嗟怨薄命，對住荷花，點能學得你出水無瑕。記得才子佳人來買夏，亭亭玉質好似閬苑仙葩。當時得令高聲價，千紅萬綠幾咁繁華。水月鏡花唔知真定假，秋風殘葉唔知落在誰家。情種情根唔知何日罷。唉！真可怕。水火難消化，或者蓮花咒鉢正化得我地孽海根芽。
Lament fortune’s frailty as you face the lotus-flower!
Would that I could, as thou canst, start flawless from the water.
I remember how wise men and pretty maidens come, for thy sake, to bribe the summer.
In lonely state stands thy jade body, like to fairy-land’s magic blossoms.
So at due time thy value rises.
What luxury of splendour is in those thousand flushes of red, those myriad tints of green!
Moonshine on the water, flowers mirrored in the glass, I know not whether they are true or false;
The bruised leaf blown off by the autumn wind, I know not on what home it falls;
In likewise I know not what day will kill passion’s seed and passion’s root.
Ah! Truly ‘tis fearsome.
Water and fire can scarce annual our passions.
It may be that the mystic lotus-bowl can transform our buds whose root is in the ocean of sin.
4. 嗟怨薄命，對住梧桐，飄零一葉怨秋風。嫩綠新枝情萬種，曾經踈雨分外唔同。蕭踈偏惹騷人夢，詩人題詠在綠陰中。若係知音便早帶佢去亭邊種，漫到焦時始辨桐。恨只恨佢一到秋來隨處播弄，惹起人愁問你有乜甚功？大抵憐香惜玉你心先動，恐怕吹殘弱質你早把信音通。細想名花有幾争捱得霜花重。唉！你心錯用。提起心腸痛，自古經秋唔怕老只有澗底蒼松。
Lament fortune’s frailty to the Dryandra tree!
Blown desolate a leaf deplores the autumn wind;
Still young and green, the new tendril knows a myriad kinds of grief;
Yet these same tendrils, after a slight shower, are wondrously transformed.
Leaves in their rustling perforce inspire the poet’s dream;
Since, then, the minstrel ever devises his song under the greenwood shade;
As a bosom friend, betimes he should plant the Dryandra at his arbour’s side,
Nor wait till its wood burns e’er he take cognizance thereof.
I grieve, I do but grieve, that, once autumn is come, leaves riot at random;
Prithee, where is the merit of infecting men with sorrow and anguish?
Nay, but your heart is ever the first to thrill in pity of fragrance and in mourning for the jewel.
I fear that the wind will blow to destruction my delicate form; send me betimes news of your pity.
Take minute thought! How many famous flowers can endure the weight of the frost films?
Ah! Your care is used amiss.
At mention hereof my heart grows sorrowful.
From of yore the only tree, which, as autumn passed, feared no old age, was but the green fir deep hidden in the river glen.
5. 嗟怨薄命，對住寒梅，點能學得你獨占花魁。冰肌玉骨堪人愛，雖然傲骨到處能栽。高插你在胆瓶我羞作對，晶瑩玉質問你幾世修來。獨抱芳心沉在孽海，亦都係柳絲蓮性碧梧胎。我想名花未必終肯被遊蜂採。須忍耐，留得青山在，還清花債依舊可以得蓬萊。
Lament fortune’s frailty as you face the winter plum-tree!
How can I vie with you who alone usurp kingship of flowers?
Your ice-crusted skin and bones of jade make men to love you.
Though proud are your limbs, yet anywhere they can be planted.
High up, then, I set you in the round flower-vase; bashfully I face you.
Prithee, in how many past existences did your merits win you that crystal, gem-like form?
Lonely I cherish virtue of heart, though plunged in the ocean of sin.
Peers in my purity are the willow’s weeping leaves, the lotus-flower, and the topaz-tree.
Methinks, that the famous flower is none so willing to be rifled by vagrant bees.
But patience is needful.
Leave the green hill unaltered!
When my flower debts are paid in full, then as of old I may reach the isles of bliss.

心只一個，點俾得過咁多人。點得人人見我都把我來憎。個陣我想着風流亦都無我份，縱有相思無路去種情根。恨只恨我唔知邊一樣唔得人，憎故此人地將我咁恨。個一個共我交情就個一個死心，累得我一身花債欲把情人問，唔通寶玉是我前身？唉我話情種都要佢有情根方種得穩，若係無緣癡極亦誤了殘生。唔信你睇眼淚重有多得過林黛玉姑娘，自小就癡得過寶玉咁緊。真正係冇忿，就俾你係死心亦不過乾熱一陣。佢還清個的眼淚就死亦不得共佢埋羣。
My heart is but one. How can I give it to so many men?
Would that every man, seeing me, might come to hate me!
Then, even should I think of wantonness, it could not be my lot;
For, though I were in love, I’d have no way of planting passion’s seed.
I grieve, I do but grieve, that I know not why I cannot make men hate me;
Wherefore men bear me such a grudge.
Whoso holds commerce with me, he loves me to death,
Yet wrongs me in making my whole body a flower-debt; I would fain ask my lover,
Whether it be possible that Po-yuk was once incarnate in my body?
Ah! Passion’s seed (I say) must have a root, e’er it can be firmly planted.
Should I not be destined to marry, then, if infatuate with love, I shall but injure my bruised life.
You doubt? Then see how my eyes are more full of tears than were those of the maiden Lam Toi-yuk, who from girlhood so doted on Po-yuk.
Truly ‘tis irksome.
For, though you were constant to death, yet the hot flush of love lasts but a moment.
She paid in full her debt of tears, but even in death she did not meet her lover.

難為我辯是癡情，情到癡迷有邊一個醒。世間多少相思症，但有懷春不敢露形。叫佢含羞對面點把絲蘿訂，真正有口難言苦不勝。大抵都係少年見女性心唔定，所以咁多磨滅事咁難成。
I find it hard to study delirious passion.
When passion grows delirious, who is there that can awake therefrom?
In the world love’s maladies are past counting.
But whoso, having vernal love in the heart, dares not disclose its presence,
If shyly silent in the face of his darling, how can he net the marriage skein?
Truly no bitterness exceeds his, who, having a mouth, finds it hard to speak.
In fine his mood is that of a young boy or girl;
His heart is uncertain;
Therefore he finds it so hard to compass the close of so many adversities.

偷偷嘆氣，此恨誰知。自從別後都冇信歸期，呢番憔悴都係因君你。教奴終夜梦魂癡。唉前世想必唔修至會今日命鄙，注定紅頻係咁孤苦，唔知苦到何時。虧我背人偷抹腮邊淚，恐憂形迹露出相思。總係無計丟開愁一箇字。唉真正冇味。天呀我想你，呢會生人總冇別離。
Secretly I sigh: who knows of my woe?
From the time when we parted onwards, no day has brought me home a letter.
This present heartache is all because of you, my lord.
You teach your handmaid’s soul to wanton all night long in dreams.
Ah! I think it needs must be that in a former life I did not mend my ways; therefore to-day contempt is my lot.
‘Tis destined that rosy girls mush be thus desolate and sad; I know not till when the sadness will endure.
You flout me, till I turn away from men that unseen I may wipe the tears from off my cheek.
I fear lest traces of grief should betray my love for you;
Yet have I no means to rid me of that one word ‘sorrow’.
Ah! Truly it savours ill.
O Heaven! Methinks thou shouldst wean us, thy children, from all partings.

香港人透過電視新聞直播目擊港人被殘殺的整個過程，大家的心窩就像被凌遲一樣被一片片刮出來，哀慟猶如家人遇害。即使事件已發生近一週，仍無法揮走悲愴。

執筆之時，最後一名遇難港人梁頌學也終於接返香港，並且剛剛接受了腦部手術。此刻，祝願傷者盡快康復、死者可以安息、不幸喪失家人的，可以撫平傷痛，盡快重新振作。

人生無常，生命可以隨時失去，幸福家庭可以一夕間被摧毀。我們沒有辦法令逝者起死回生，但卻有責任關懷照顧倖存的家屬。這幾天，香港人發揮守望相助的精神，無論是遇事者的親友，抑或是素昧謀面的陌生人，想方設法給與協助，顯示了人性高貴的品質。

同時，我們也要為找出事件的真相，為死傷者討回公道。子曰：以直報怨。我們不是要報復，我們只是要求將事件查過明白，還死者一個公道，也為了撫平家屬創傷，並且藉此檢討得失，防止再有同類悲劇發生。

我們既然悲痛港人無辜遇害，更加不要遷怒無辜菲傭。我們要以理性爭取公道，不要讓仇恨主導情緒。

人生自古誰無死，我們應當思考的是怎樣面對同胞親友的離逝，怎樣令人可以有尊嚴地活着，有尊嚴地辭世。對於辭世者生前的美德、面對危難時捨己救人的精神應予表揚。只有這樣，才能走出傷痛，重新上路。

無情酒，餞別離筵，臨行致嘱有萬千千。佢話分離冇幾耐就有書回轉，做乜屈指如今都有大半年。我相思流淚又怕人偷偷睇見，你箇無情何苦得咁心偏。我只話日夜丟開唔掛念，獨惜夢魂相會又試苦苦相纒。叫我點能學得佪隻雙飛燕，唉佢唔飛亂秋去春回轉，呢喃相對細語花前。
Spiritless is the wine which speeds the parting at the farewell feast.
When the time for parting came, ten thousand thousand were my behests.
He said, he would not long be gone, e’er he sent a letter back to me.
Why, then, can I count on my finger-tips that till to-day a full half a year has passed?
In thought of him I weep tears; yet fear that some one may privily spy on me.
Thou loveless man! Why dost thou harden thy heart so wilfully?
Then said I that day and night I would discard thought of thee.
Only I grieve that my soul meets thine in dreams and strives eagerly, eagerly, to embrace thee.
Tell me: how can I be like to that pair of swallows flying side by side?
Aye! They do not fly aimlessly; but in autumn they go and in spring they return;
‘Twit! Twit!’ they whisper loow as they meet among the flowers.

相識恨晚，自見緣慳。呢吓相逢就別，我實見心煩。做乜相見咁好時，相處都有限。今日征鴻兩地怨孤單。做女個陣點知流落呢處受風流難，夜夜雖則成雙，我實在見單。當初悔不聽王孫諫，欲還花債，誤落到人間。既落到人間，須要帶眼。還會揀世上惜花人亦有限。但係好花扶得起，就要曲意闗闌。

I grieve that ‘twas nightfall e’er we two were acquainted; well I see fate is a miser.
In the moment we met, we met, we parted; truly I felt my heart burning.
Since the day of our seeing each other was so fair, why was a limit set upon our life together?
To-day the goose-borne missive laments the isolation of two homes.
How could I know in girlhood’s hour that I should sink hitherwards, to suffer the hardship of wanton joys?
Night by night, tho’ paired with a mate, I feel a very loneliness.
In my first remorse, I heard not thy warning, O my prince;
For wishing to pay my flower debts, in mistake I have fallen among men;
And, since I am fallen among men, needst must my eyes be discerning.
Moreover, I must have skill to choose aright.
In this world the number of those who pity flowers has indeed its limit.
But, if a man would prop up a fair flower, then with subtle care must he fence it round.

花花世界，嚊有乜相干。唉我何苦做埋咁多冤孽事幹，睇見眼前佪的折墮吤，你話幾咁心寒。我想到處風流都是一樣。不若持齋念佛去把經看。呢回把情字一筆勾消我亦唔敢亂想。消此孽賬免至失身流落呢處賣笑村場，呢吓朝夕我我去拈香重要頻合掌。參透色相，定要脫離呢處苦海直渡慈航。

Our world is of flowers, aye! Of flowers. What matter’s it?
Ah! Why need I compass so many a sinful act?
When I see before my eyes those that are plunged in distress, how coldly (think you) does it chill my heart?
Methinks that wanton joy is everywhere all of one kind.
‘Twere better to hold the fast with prayer to Buddha, and go read the Sutras.
So now with one pen-stroke I will blot out the word ‘passion’; then my desires will no more be such rebels.
Let me erase my debt of sin;
Thus I shall avoid loss of chastity and shall not sink down to yonder Sell-Smile Village.
Now morning and evening will I hold the fragrant sticks;
Also I must ever clasp my hands
In prayerful contemplation, penetrating the mask of beauty.
‘Tis my purpose to escape from this sea of bitterness, and straightway win a seat in the Boat of Mercy.