A girl is sad,
When her spring-time of life is far advanced and she still occupies a
vacant inner-room.
A girl feels wounded in her heart,
When she regrets having allowed her better half to go abroad and win a
marquisdom.
A girl is glad,
When looking in the mirror, at the time of her morning toilette, she
finds her colour fair.
A girl is joyful,
What time she sits on the frame of a gallows-swing, clad in a thin
spring gown.
Having listened to him, "Capital!" one and all cried out in a chorus. Hsüeh P'an alone raised his face, shook his head and remarked: "It isn't good, he must be fined."
"Why should he be fined?" demurred the party.
"Because," retorted Hsüeh P'an, "what he says is entirely unintelligible to me. So how can he not be fined?"
Yün Erh gave him a pinch.—"Just you quietly think of yours," she laughed; "for if by and bye you are not ready you'll also have to bear a fine."
In due course Pao-yü took up the guitar. He was heard to sing:
"When mutual thoughts arise, tears, blood-stained, endless drop, like
lentiles sown broadcast.
In spring, in ceaseless bloom nourish willows and flowers around the
painted tower.
Inside the gauze-lattice peaceful sleep flies, when, after dark, come
wind and rain.
Both new-born sorrows and long-standing griefs cannot from memory ever
die!
E'en jade-fine rice, and gold-like drinks they make hard to go down;
they choke the throat.
The lass has not the heart to desist gazing in the glass at her wan
face.
Nothing can from that knitted brow of hers those frowns dispel;
For hard she finds it patient to abide till the clepsydra will have
run its course.
Alas! how fitly like the faint outline of a green hill which nought
can screen;
Or like a green-tinged stream, which ever ceaseless floweth onward far
and wide!"
When the song drew to an end, his companions with one voice cried out:
"Excellent!"
Hsüeh P'an was the only one to find fault. "There's no metre in them," he said.
Pao-yü quaffed the "opening cup," then seizing a pear, he added: