It is warm in winter this year.
The sun is shining, and it is warm.
The plum tree is in full blossom,
strong and haughty.

I can be seen
In frozen fragrance and beauty.
Those who understand me paint me in brush.
Those who know me compose me in verses.


A loner wild goose has arrived here from the north.

Don’t think that I am one without any aim,
just looking for some warmth and food here.

I fly with wide-spread wings,
looking for an ideal home in my dream.

There the North Star would be constantly twinkling.