AN EVENING MEETING
The night is the colour of Spring mists.
The lamp-flower falls.
And the flame bursts out brightly.
In the midst of the disorder of the dressing-table
Lies a black eye-stone.
As she dances,
A golden hairpin drops to the ground.
She peeps over her fan,
Arch, coquettish, welcoming his arrival.
Then suddenly striking the strings of her table-lute,
She sings—
But what is the rain of Sorceress Gorge
Doing by the shore of the Western Sea?
Li Hai-ku, 19th Century