BY THE EMPEROR LING OF (LATER) HAN
Cool wind rising. Sun sparkling on the wide canal.Pink lotuses, bent down by day, spread open at night.There is too much pleasure; a day cannot contain it.Clear sounds of strings, smooth flowing notes of flageolets—we sing the "Jade Love-Bird" song.A thousand years? Ten thousand? Nothing could exceed such delight.
Cool wind rising. Sun sparkling on the wide canal.Pink lotuses, bent down by day, spread open at night.There is too much pleasure; a day cannot contain it.Clear sounds of strings, smooth flowing notes of flageolets—we sing the "Jade Love-Bird" song.A thousand years? Ten thousand? Nothing could exceed such delight.
Cool wind rising. Sun sparkling on the wide canal.Pink lotuses, bent down by day, spread open at night.There is too much pleasure; a day cannot contain it.Clear sounds of strings, smooth flowing notes of flageolets—we sing the "Jade Love-Bird" song.A thousand years? Ten thousand? Nothing could exceed such delight.
Cool wind rising. Sun sparkling on the wide canal.
Pink lotuses, bent down by day, spread open at night.
There is too much pleasure; a day cannot contain it.
Clear sounds of strings, smooth flowing notes of flageolets—we sing the "Jade Love-Bird" song.
A thousand years? Ten thousand? Nothing could exceed such delight.