龔自珍
浩蕩離愁白日斜,
吟鞭東指即天涯。
落紅不是無情物,
化作春泥更護(hù)花。
Gong Zizhen
Where the sun sets I feel the pain of leaving,
As I crack my whip and head to the far east.
The fading reds are ridden with man’s feeling,
That will become soil to feed the blooms of spring.