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离离原上草, 一岁一枯荣。 野火烧不尽, 春风吹又生。 远芳侵古道, 晴翠接荒城。 又送王孙去, 萋萋满别情。
Lush grasses cover the ancient plain, Withering and flourishing once each year. Wildfire cannot burn them all away, They rise again when spring winds blow. Their distant fragrance reaches the old road, Their sunlit green joins the far-off town. Once more I see a dear friend leave, And thick grass fills the parting with feeling.