Dark flowed through the night,
When? Did the resting birds,
Flight over the quiet villa¹, 
An empty villa in the season of Cape² Jasmine. 

The figure of your back was the only scene in my view,
Together with the sound of a clock on my desk,
Stayed in my memory forever.
Was your night the same as mine?

Many times in the life, joys from sufferings,
And sufferings from joys,
Rising high,
With the music of a flute³（长笛） , played in the night.
Windy evenings on the ancient bank,
Skirt fluttering, you stride along the Jia-Ling River.
The full moon on the river,
Shining on my hear with lovesick.
Is your night the same as mine?

The light of lonely night, drifting in the sounded sleep,
My night, as lonely as the bamboo in Ban-Qiao's painting,
As sad as the tears of flowers in Du-Fu's poem.
Tell me, can tears of heart ever wet the flimsy night?

All the thoughts,
Hiding in you faint breaths,
Warm and sweet, as that of a flower,
Penetrating⁴ the dark night,
Will your night be the same as mine?