“Zhe Ju” — An English translation of a Chinese song.

Rain beats upon the plantain leaves,
Bending the willows beyond my window.
Exiled to this humble dwelling,
Even the leaking roof betrays me in the storm.

A night of rain, a night of farewell,
A heart weighed down by those who leave.
When I have nothing left to call my own,
What could I possibly offer a friend?

Perhaps a poem may repay a kindness;
I write, yet what debt can words repay?
Perhaps a cup of wine may ease my sorrow,
But with every swallow, the sadness grows.

For ten long years, I've failed the friends and teachers
Who once believed in me.
Why should I burden even poetry and wine
With the weight of all my regrets?

Once, full of fire, I rode through Liangzhou,
Once, I roamed with flowers and wine,
Once, my name was known, my talent praised,
A mind said to hold the wisdom of eight scholars.

Let those memories rest within a dream.
Let fallen blossoms drift along the stream.

What is sorrow, if not autumn
Dwelling in the heart of one who must part?

I dip my brush into the frost of autumn,
And paint the colors of a fading season.
The meaning within the painting
Is the hardest thing to capture.

Perhaps autumn never existed in this world;
Perhaps it lives only in the eyes
Of those who have yet to awaken
From the world beyond the painted frame.

Love, that single word, is hardest to await.
The one who dwells within the heart is hardest to find.

The world is filled with countless gifted painters,
Yet tell me—

How can anyone paint
The sorrow of parting?

Remark: Can art ever capture what the human heart cannot let go of?