***
Where is it, the sad lyre which follows the quick flute?
Down endless lanes where the cherries flower, on a bank where the willows droop.
The lady of the East house grows old without a husband,
The white sun at high noon, the last spring month half over.
Princess Li-yang is fourteen,
In the cool of the day, after the Rain Feast, with him behind the fence, look.
...Come home, toss and turn till the fifth watch.
Two swallows in the rafters hear the long sigh.
poem by Li Shangyin
Added by Dan Costinaş
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