東風不來，三月的柳絮不飛
你底心如小小的寂寞的城
恰若青石的街道向晚
跫音不響，三月的春帷不揭
你的心是小小的窗扉緊掩
我達達的馬蹄是美麗的錯誤
我不是歸人，是個過客
The east wind blows not, and March’s soft down takes no flight.
Thy heart, a little town in lonely plight,
As evening falls on streets of green stones so slight,
No footfalls sound, no springtide curtains rise,
Thy heart, a window small, tightly closed lies.
My steed’s swift hooves are but a fair mistake,
I am not homeward soul, but a passing wraith.
你底心如小小的寂寞的城
恰若青石的街道向晚
跫音不響，三月的春帷不揭
你的心是小小的窗扉緊掩
我達達的馬蹄是美麗的錯誤
我不是歸人，是個過客
The east wind blows not, and March’s soft down takes no flight.
Thy heart, a little town in lonely plight,
As evening falls on streets of green stones so slight,
No footfalls sound, no springtide curtains rise,
Thy heart, a window small, tightly closed lies.
My steed’s swift hooves are but a fair mistake,
I am not homeward soul, but a passing wraith.