Tune: "Butterflies Lingering over Flowers"
I have tasted the bitterness of parting at world's end.
Little was I aware, before my return,
How the flowers would be scattered.
When we look at each other without a word beneath the flowers,
Spring, by the green window, fades with the passing day.
I would like to tell of my feelings by the lamp light:
One skein of new joy,
A thousand skeins of old regret.
Things hardest to keep in this human world—
Rosy cheeks which fade in the mirror and flowers that fall from trees.