Please Give Me Back Spring
The lotus and the Susannas should vie for beauty
Birds should be on the water, shaking their wings comfortably
The boats should sing songs, sailing into the traveler's heart
But February, you are on the other side of the wall
There should be the sound of pipes, on the backs of cattle
There should be flickering fishing lights, in the night
There should be plum blossoms in the plum garden, like blood bursting forth
But February, you are not in hell, you are in heaven
The cold wind still stings, extinguishing Jili Street
Hail still ravages, shattering Hutun Lane
The zither on the stage, two thousand years of kindred spirits, has become completely hoarse
Zhang Ziding's arsenal declared death
Ghosts wandered around, looting the splendor of the dynasty
The power indispensable for spring was deprived and exhausted
Please let God give us two hands, to brighten our eyes
