
cold Spring day:
feels too chilly
to be so green.

cold Spring day:
feels too chilly
to be so green.
Towards noon fleecy clouds waft in the gentle breeze;
I cross the stream amid flowers and willow trees.
What do the worldlings know about my hearty pleasure?
They'd only take me for a truant fond of leisure.
Note: This is the joint translation of Xu Yuanchong and Xu Ming found in the edition of Golden Treasury of Quatrains and Octaves on which they collaborated (i.e. China Publishing Group: Beijing (2008.))

Spring’s arrival
brings lush, green grass;
livestock keeps it trim.

unfurled buds,
not drooped to gravity,
tell Spring’s story.

first droplets
of a Spring shower ripple
on the river.

willow-lined stream
swells with a rush of
Spring white water.