BY WANG CHANG-LING
In a dress of gauzy fabric
Of the 'Lien' leaf's emerald hue
So-fei glides amongst the lilies
Sprinkled with the morning dew.
Rose-hued are the lotus-blossoms,
Rose-hued, too, the maiden's cheeks;
Is it So-fei's form I follow,
Or the flowers she seeks?
Now I hear a song arising
From the lotus bowers,
Which distinguishes the maiden
From her sister flowers.
A Farewell[48]
BY LI TAI-PEH
Far up the Song-Yang's sacred mountain,
Unrestrained by lock or bridge,
Plows a pure and peaceful streamlet
'Neath the 'Gem-Maid's' grassy ridge.
There at eve midst pine-trees sombre
Looms the large and lustrous moon;
And within my ancient dwelling
You I hope to welcome soon.
Yes, my friend, I'll come to see you
At the closing of the year,
In your home among the mountains,
Where you live without a fear.