The spring breeze touches my heart, and my ears are no longer quiet. . . . . . .
Leaving the purdah, I have embarked on the pace of fighting. . . . . . .
Who knows my thoughts. . . . .
I'm willing to just listen to you. . . . .
Who knows the hearts of the harem, they are full of indifference and sorrow in the spring breeze. . . . . . . .
I hope your Majesty understands my intentions and allows me to live in peace. . . . . . . .
Peach blossoms bloom and leaves fall all over the ground, youth is gone and never comes back. . . . . . . .