The Song of the Goddess of theXiangRiver
TheXiangRiveris as green as dyed, it was said,
But now they tell me She seems rouge-stained.
The Goddess uses the River as her mirror after dressing,
Clean and clear as bright moon through crimson cloud peeping.
The high hill feels lonely and scared at midnight;
The fragrant plants are withered and fallen with spring gone.
The jade lute dies out; the player fades away:
The scene of peace is ornamented all over the city.
(Trans. Zhang Guangkui)
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