Where is her green pavilion?

‘Tis high up among the blue clouds.

Her precious mirror hangs like the autumnal moon;

Her silk gown weighs lighter than the spring breezes.


Alone she sits, with her newly braided hair,

Till the sun wearily sets in the west;

Long has she been waiting.

Deep in sorrow, she gazes at the empty gold screen…


A pair of wild geese pass honking in the sky.

In haste she cuts off a piece of silk

And scratches a little letter.

Oh, may they wild geese carry it to him!


~ Li Bai (701-762)

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