《唔係乜靚》 In no way beautiful
You are none so beautiful; why then at sight of you is my heart wounded?
In sooth, methinks, e’er ever you were born, it was fore-ordained that you should melt my heart; therefore in this life you touch my soul with sorrow.
Aye, in a former life were planted those roots and sprouts of passion, whence in this life is sprung the sin-debt of flowers and rouge.
For this cause, as at risk of death I went in quest of flowers, I chanced upon this wondrous fragrance.
Ten thousand, thousand toys of rouge and powder I have closely scanned; but none were peers of yours.
Once met with you, I hie me back and for ten days at the least I muse thereon.
If, as they say, the dead and gone return from death to life, then I will die with you for the nonce;
But you deal harshly by me; and, when I am dead indeed, you will reck naught thereof.
Now did high heaven let fail an angel into my embrace, I should not venture to riot in desire.
Of a truth you should pardon me.
Let not your heart’s mood veer on the counter tack, saying no syllable to me.