清晨簾幕卷輕霜。
呵手試梅妝。
都緣自有離恨，
故畫作遠山長。
思往事，惜流芳。
易成傷。
擬歌先斂，
欲笑還顰，
最斷人腸。
At dawn I raise the curtain, brushing off the light frost,
and warm my hands before trying on plum-blossom rouge.
It is only because of this sorrow of parting
that I paint my brows so long, like distant hills.
I think of things gone by, and grieve for fleeting years —
so easily does it turn to sorrow.
Before I sing, my face already stills;
wanting to smile, I frown instead —
nothing breaks the heart more than this.