To the tune of "Happy Event Is Nigh"

The wind ceases; fallen flowers pile high.
Outside my screen, petals collect in heaps of red
 and snow-white.

This reminds me that after the blooming
 of the cherry-apple tree
It is time to lament the dying spring.

Singing and drinking have come to an end;
 jade cups are empty;
Lamps are flickering.

Hardly able to bear the sorrows and regrets
 of my dreams,
I hear the mournful cry of the cuckoo.