Chapter 44 To—(Music, when the lingering lingering sound dies away,)
To——
Music, when the lingering reverberation dies,
Still vibrating in memory—
The scent of flowers, when the fragrant violets wither,
It is still treasured in the soul.
Rose, when her flowers are gone,
Spread a brocade bed for her love with falling red;
The same is true for your thoughts, waiting for you to travel far away,
Love goes to sleep with longing on its pillow.
Translated by Yang Xiling