The snow is white on the far frontier hills,
The clouds are yellow over the misty frontier sea.
I strike with my leather whip, there are ten thousand li to go.
How can I accomplish it, thinking of Spring in the Women's Apartments?
A POEM GIVEN TO A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN ENCOUNTERED ON A FIELD-PATH
BY LI T'AI-PO
The magnificent horse, galloping swiftly, tramples the fallen flower.
Down comes the riding-whip, straight down—it strikes the Five Cloud Cart.