The Beautiful
Orphans
They are the south as we imagine it
Stunning, immaculate in their high room
Entertaining themselves with verses
About parrots
Sitting by turquoise windows
Repairing their trousseaus of phoenix designs
In their courtyard, leaves, smoky reds swirling
Cups of best wine passed among them
No matter how long I look on sacred waters
Men keep heaven for themselves
Banish me here
Comparing me to these gorgeous girls
My only comfort, four zither strings
Love songs plucked softly
In the mirror, I admire myself
In moonlight my jet hair pinned with white jade
My lover came to me from the past
A dead poet visiting in dreams
These creatures, what lives shall they know
Beyond beauty
Where the heart recovers
A willow net across the sky, everywhere, clouds
Changing
A simple flute note carries miles
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