何处同仙侣，青衣独在家。
暖炉留煮药，邻院为煎茶。
画壁灯光暗，幡竿日影斜。
殷勤重回首，墙外数枝花。
Where might you be, with your immortal companions?
Only your servant is home;
you’ve left herbs cooking on the warm brazier,
tea leaves brewing in the next courtyard.
The painted walls fade into the lamplight,
the flagstaff’s long shadow is slanting —
again and again I look round,
but beyond the wall, only flowers.