The courtyard is deep,
How many times have I been dressed in coarse linen and linen clothes, and how many times have I been exposed to the warmth and coldness of the human world, just to prepare for each step and enter the deep palace.
The ups and downs of the harem,
The clouds are slanting and the moon is visible in the depths, and the sun is hidden in the hazy trees. It has been the voice of my heart for several years.
Tears drained from the scarf,
The beauties are cut off before they grow old. I want to roll up the beaded curtain and hate the late spring. I just shed tears and express my heartfelt feelings until dawn.
Strategizing,
Late at night, the orioles sing and fly in the front hall, waiting quietly for the fragrance of flowers to come in the night. Eventually, the fragrance disappears and the jade dies, like no other.
Gratitude and resentment,
It's a March dusk, and the weeping willows only block our eyes. It's hard to get away while quietly listening to the wind swaying the green bamboos.
The right way is that it is easy to send gifts to gods but difficult to invite them, and no one sees the flowers falling every year. Singing happily in the palace, getting drunk outside the palace, rushing through the border in a rage.
The homeland is three thousand miles away, and I have been in the palace for three years. With a soft sigh, tears fell in front of you.
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