What do these halls of jasper mean,

and shining floor,

Where tapestries of satin screen

window and door?

A lady on a lonely seat,


Fair fowers which seem to smell as sweet

as buds in spring.

Swallows flit past, a zephyr shakes

the plum-blooms down;

She draws the blind, a goblet takes

her thoughts to drown.

And now she sits in tears, or hums,

nursing her grief

That in her life joy rarely comes

to bring relief……

Oh for the humble turtle’s flight,

my mate and I;

Not the lone crane far out of sight

beyond the sky!

Pao Chao, died A.D. 466

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