Willow spit ss, cc sound,
-ing and eng,en are like the beeps of bees;
spring is coming,
Look, the sun through the weeping willow,
Isn't this spring, spring dream?
Ah, our long-lost spring goddess,
You have a gentle green from the gentle south.
Even more so, in the north of the ice and snow,
Our skin has stretched a little because of your coming.
Your nimble eyes have deep love.
Headdress decorated with colorful flowers,
You touch with a crystal finger,
The life that awaits you to awaken.
Spring Yang from the swinging gap between willows by the river,
Concealed with a golden flame,
This is a painting of a spring goddess.
I seem to be walking on spring grass.
Listen to the bird twittering,
Flying gorgeous butterfly
And the bee who is busy collecting honey.