And I was still going, late in the year,
             in the cutting wind from the North,
And thinking how little you cared for the cost,
             and you caring enough to pay it.
And what a reception:
Red jade cups, food well set on a blue jewelled table,
And I was drunk, and had no thought of returning.
And you would walk out with me to the western corner of the
    castle,
To the dynastic temple, with water about it clear as blue jade,
With boats floating, and the sound of mouth-organs and drums,
With ripples like dragon-scales, going grass green on the water,
Pleasure lasting, with courtezans, going and coming without
    hindrance,
With the willow flakes falling like snow,
And the vermilioned girls getting drunk about sunset,
And the water a hundred feet deep reflecting green eyebrows
--Eyebrows painted green are a fine sight in young moonlight,
Gracefully painted--
And the girls singing back at each other,
Dancing in transparent brocade,
And the wind lifting the song, and interrupting it,
Tossing it up under the clouds.
              And all this comes to an end.
              And is not again to be met with.
I went up to the court for examination,
Tried Layu's luck, offered the Choyo song,
And got no promotion,
              and went back to the East Mountains
                  white-headed.
And once again, later, we met at the South bridge-head.
And then the crowd broke up, you went north to San palace,
And if you ask how I regret that parting:
      It is like the flowers falling at Spring's end
              Confused, whirled in a tangle.
What is the use of talking, and there is no end of talking,
There is no end of things in the heart.    I call in the boy,
Have him sit on his knees here
             To seal this,
And send it a thousand miles, thinking.                                    _By Rihaku._

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