Above the blossoms sing the orioles:
 Kuan kuan, their clear notes.
 The girl with a face like jade
 Strums to them on her lute.
 Never does she tire of playing --
 Youth is the time for tender thoughts.
 When the flowers scatter and the birds fly off
 Her tears will fall in the spring wind.

Translated of Burton Watson in: Cold Mountain: 100 poems by the T’ang poet Han-Shan, New York: Columbia University Press, p. 22