To the tune of "Bodhisattva Aliens"Soft breezes, mild sunshine,
spring is still young.
The sudden change of the light
brightened my spirit.But upon awakening from slumber,
I felt the chill air;
The plum flower withered in my hair.Where can I call my native land?
Forget - I cannot, except in wine
when I drown my care.Incense was lighted when I went to sleep;
Though the embers are now cold,
the warmth of wine still burns on.
spring is still young.
The sudden change of the light
brightened my spirit.But upon awakening from slumber,
I felt the chill air;
The plum flower withered in my hair.Where can I call my native land?
Forget - I cannot, except in wine
when I drown my care.Incense was lighted when I went to sleep;
Though the embers are now cold,
the warmth of wine still burns on.
