千山云气雨随风，
春陌楼台花色朦。
月下曲溪笙笛寂，
青衫忆昔小桥东
Clouds, air and rain were floating with wind over thousands of mountains,
which hazyed the little spring path, the pagoda and the beatutiful flowers.
Under the moon, beside a curly creek, intrigged by the sound of a longly flute,
a gent in blue stopped at the east of the little bridge recollecting his past.