The poem that describes the beauty of flowers after they are out of date is as follows:
1. The forest flowers withered the spring red, too hastily, but the cold rain came in the morning and the wind came in the evening.
The colorful flowers have withered in the blink of an eye. The spring is too hasty and there is nothing we can do! The rainy forest flowers are as delicate as the beauty's rouge tears. The flowers and the people who pity the flowers miss each other. There are too many regrettable things in life, just like the river passing eastward, endless and never-ending.
2. The wind abides in the dust and the fragrant flowers are gone. I am tired of combing my hair day and night.
The wind has stopped, the dust carries the fragrance of flowers, and the flowers have withered away. The sun has risen so high, but I am too lazy to dress up. The scenery remains the same, the people and things have changed, and everything has ended.
3. The yellow flowers are piled up all over the ground, and they are haggard and damaged. Who can pick them now?
The chrysanthemums that once bloomed so prosperously on the branches are now haggard. Who is still interested in picking them and wearing them on their heads?
4. If the colors of the flowers fall this year, who will be there next year when they bloom again?
This year I am here watching the peach and plum blossoms wither and fade in color. I wonder who will be able to see the blooming flowers next year when they bloom?
5. The flowers have faded and become red, green and apricots are small. When the swallows fly, the green water is surrounded by people.
The remaining red flowers faded away, and small green apricots grew on the treetops. Swallows dance in the sky, and clear rivers surround village homes.