The poems in the Dream of the Red Chamber

Dream of the Red Chamber is the pinnacle of Chinese classical novels, and there are many famous poems in it. One of the most famous songs was the Song of Burial of Flowers. Below is its original text: ``` Lin Daiyu! Lin Daiyu! Burial of flowers, singing, Burial of flowers. Flowers wither, flowers fly, flowers fill the sky Who will pity the red and fragrant? The gossamer is softly tied to the spring pavilion the falling catkins lightly touch the embroidered curtains. The daughter in the boudoir cherishes the twilight of spring I'm full of sorrow, and there's no place to let it go. Hoeing flowers in hand, I leave the embroidered curtain how can I bear to step on fallen flowers and come and go? The willows and elm pods are fragrant Don't care about Tao Piao and Li Fei; Peaches and plums can bloom again next year Who will be in my boudoir next year? In March, the fragrant nest has been built The swallows between the beams are too heartless! Next year's flower hair may be pecked But don't you know that the empty nest in the beam is falling? 360 days a year Wind blades and frost swords threatened each other; How long can the bright and beautiful beauty last? once wandering, it's hard to find. Flowers bloom, easy to see, hard to find I'm worried about killing those who bury flowers in front of the steps Leaning on the hoe alone, tears fall blood stains appear on the branches scattered over the sky. The cuckoo is silent at dusk Carrying a hoe, I go back to cover the heavy door; The green lamp shines on the wall, and the person first sleeps Cold rain knocks on the window, the quilt is not warm. Why do you blame me? half for pity and half for vexation. Pity the spring, suddenly come and go in annoyance When it came to it, there was nothing to say. Last night, the sad song outside the court was released Do you know if it's a flower soul or a bird soul? Flower soul, bird soul, it's hard to keep The birds are silent and the flowers are ashamed. May I have wings today With the flowers to the end of the sky. Where is the fragrant mound at the end of the sky? It's not as good as a brocade bag to collect beautiful bones a handful of pure land covers the wind and breeze. Pure come, pure go better than sinking into a ditch in a muddy puddle. Now that you're dead, I'll bury you I don't know when I'll die. I'm burying flowers, people are laughing at me Who will bury me in other years? Try to see the fading flowers of spring When beauty dies of old age; Once spring is over, the beauty is old I don't even know that the flowers have fallen and the people have died! ```