Not speak alone up west tower moon like sickle
Quiet lonely wutong deep courtyard lock clear autumn
Cut not sever mind still disorder is parting sorrow
Separate is just like taste in heart head
I climb the western tower in silence, the moon like a sickle.
Clear autumn is locked in the deep courtyard, where a wutong tree stands lonely.
Sorrowful parting has cut, but not severed our ties; my mind is still wild.
Separation is just like a taste in head and heart.