The peach blossom will burst open,
Showing half its red toward the evening.
The cooking smoke spreads in the sky far beyond the hilltop,
Gradually fades away with the remaining afterglow.
Hearken the warbling of the orioles alone,
And call to my dear child softly now and then:
「Put the cooking of water shield and perches for later,
Is the wine in the pot warmed up yet?」