The crescent moon rises, and a graceful poet
Steps out from behind the delicate and bright curtain,
Returning to her long-yearned-for hometown.
The moon's pure light illuminates the quiet
Village, the small courtyard, the footpath through the fields, the crops—
It is the tranquil haven I seek after chasing繁华 (prosperity).
The night breeze brushes past the eaves of tiled roofs,
And I hear the clear resonance of moonlight dripping down.
The cicadas rest, their snoring deep in slumber,
While crickets and grasshoppers exchange idle chatter like lovers confiding secrets.