空庖煮寒菜，
破灶燒濕苇。
My cot on misty waves will float. I cook food in a kitchen in decay
那知是寒食？
但見烏銜紙。
And burn wet reeds in a cracked stove. Who can tell 'tis the Cold-food day
君門深九重，
坟墓在萬里。
But for the money-paper burned above? The royal palace has gate on gate;
也擬哭途窮，
死灰吹不起！
My household graves far away lie. At the road's end I'd lament my fate,