深秋庭院，一派萧瑟气象。
人寂寂，影姗姗，月色朦胧夜已阑。
看树影婆娑何人在，有谁人荷露立苍苔。
原来是凤尾苍松迎风舞，所以隔窗儿疑似玉人来。
秋风卷起梧桐叶，扑向帘栊入秀闱。
又听那铁马檐前叮当响，铜壶滴漏不住摧。
深秋庭院有萧瑟感，令人儿怎不动愁烦。
凄凉放下纱窗坐，重剔银灯把书卷翻，只觉得心绪彷徨意徘徊。
The courtyard is bleak in late autumn.
People are quiet and shadows are slow. The moonlight is obscure late at night.
Looking at the shadows of trees dancing in the breeze, I wonder who is there. Who is standing at the dew-wet moss? 
It turns out that green cycas and pines dance with the wind, so through the window I think my lover comes.
The autumn wind rolls up sycamore leaves which fly to the curtain and enter her boudoir.
Also, I hear the tinkling pieces of metal hanging from the eaves and the Copper Kettle Clepsydra’s sound.
The courtyard is bleak in late autumn. Certainly, I feel melancholy.
Closing the screen window and sitting down forlornly, I light up the candle and begin to read. However, I only feel at a loss and hesitate.