Where has spring gone?
Lonely, there is no way to go.
If someone knows where spring has gone,
Have them call it back to stay.

Has spring left no trace? Who knows?
Unless the oriole is asked,
But no one can decipher its warbling
Because the wind has blown it over the roses.

── from Quan Song Ci
(Complete Collection of Song Poems)

All the generals talked about obtaining high rank;
A bit of flute, lengthy songs. Alone,
I learn against the railing.

All things have gone with wind and rain.
Gone, gone,
Are the golden-bridled horses of Ximatai^*.

Drink up; but do not delay.
The wine this autumn tastes the same as the last.

The flowers laugh at this old man’s head
For shame, for shame!
This old man can’t end his worries, even with
flowers in his white hair.

── from Huang Tingjian Zuopin Quanji
(Complete Collection of Works by Huang Tingjian)
*A city used to train horses for battle centuries before the author’s birth.