To the tune “On Top of Phoenix Tower, Recalling Flute Music”
Incense lies cold in the golden lion, the bedcover is tossed crimson waves, she arises, too languid to comb her hair. The jeweled make-up case gathers dust, as the sun climbs to the curtain hook. She dreads now this longing for a distant one and parting pain, How many things have happened! About to speak, she stops.
She’s grown thin of late, not from sickness over wine, nor from sadness over autumn. No more, no more! When he left this time a thousand verses of “Yang Pass” would not have detained him. The Wuling man is distant now, clouds lock shut the tower in Qin. There’s only the flowing river before the tower that should remember me staring transfixed, all day long. To the spot I stand and stare, from today on will be added a layer of new sorrow.
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3.12
Date: 2022-01-29 11:01 pm (UTC)香冷金猊
被翻紅浪
起來慵自梳頭。
任寶奩塵滿 日上簾鉤。 生怕離懷別苦 多少事
欲說還休。
新來瘦
非干病酒
不是悲秋。
休休。 這回去也
千萬遍陽關
也則難留。
念武陵人遠 煙鎖秦樓。
唯有樓前流水
應念我 終日凝眸。
凝眸處
從今又添
一段新愁。
To the tune “On Top of Phoenix Tower, Recalling Flute Music”
Incense lies cold in the golden lion, the bedcover is tossed crimson waves, she arises, too languid to comb her hair.
The jeweled make-up case gathers dust, as the sun climbs to the curtain hook. She dreads now this longing for a distant one and parting pain, How many things have happened!
About to speak, she stops.
She’s grown thin of late, not from sickness over wine, nor from sadness over autumn.
No more, no more! When he left this time a thousand verses of “Yang Pass” would not have detained him.
The Wuling man is distant now, clouds lock shut the tower in Qin.
There’s only the flowing river before the tower that should remember me
staring transfixed, all day long. To the spot I stand and stare, from today on will be added a layer of new sorrow.