The tail of February draws near,
All yin forces long in retreat and hidden.
Only peach and plum blossoms' beauty is clear,
Why should frost and snow be held in suspicion?
Dense sleet still gathers first in the air,
Floating snowflakes suddenly scatter and cling.
With wind, it brings a piercing chill to bear,
With rain, it weaves a delicate, fine string.
Over rivers and lakes, a vast white view,
Pearls and jade mingled in a scattered array.
Traces just begin to coat the tiles anew,
Slanting lines gradually pierce the curtain's way.
Birds transform into cranes of Liaocheng's lore,
Paths are paved with silk from Yue maidens' hand.
Falling petals sometimes dance and soar,
Flying catkins may together cling and stand.
Straight compared to jade, so pure and bright,
Who would doubt swans and egrets plucked in flight?
Piercing skin like sharp awls, keen and tight,
Splashing faces with blades, gleaming and light.
Cold daunts the joy of opening doors to gaze,
Light congeals, accompanying the moon's phase.
Price rises for charcoal in the woodcutter's maze,
Spirits lift in the tavern's curtained haze.
Feet halt on silver-adorned shoes so fine,
Heads raised with jade-wrapped beards in a line.
How does it defy the warming law's design,
To again afflict the poor with hardship's sign?
Firewood lacks, unprepared through the morn,
Clothes rely on warmth, hastily worn.
Picking flowers, roaming girls feel forlorn,
Worrying for the year, old farmers mourn.
Bamboo cherished, leaves tapped with frequent care,
Flowers sorrowed, quickly covered with straw layer.
Power lost, Taihao's sadness fills the air,
Aiding cruelty, Feilian adds despair.
Sudden fall at first seems brave and bold,
Swift melting also surprises, humble and cold.
Northern clouds though borrow convenience, I'm told,
After the flood, could there be no greed to hold?
Even if dark spirits' cunning is vast,
Hard to make wood's vitality outcast.
Cold's might in vain exerts its power fast,
Spring's breath also adds its warmth at last.
Accumulated force just levels the mound,
Melting streams already drip from eaves around.
Dark sky still appears heavy and profound,
Near the ground, it occupies with gentle sound.
Distant waters hard to veil their face,
High peaks not wrapped at their pointed space.
On walls, it lightly paints a powdery trace,
Covering ground, could it become salt's embrace?
Silk fans startle at dust's dim plight,
Kunlun recognizes fire's blazing light.
Properly come to recommend thaw's respite,
Vainly again aiding dampness's slight.
Accumulated moisture ends by nourishing tender,
Startling thunder also shakes with splendor.
Lord of the East, do not sorrow or surrender,
The bright sun awaits to gaze in full splendor.