Dancing

 

 

Wide sleeves sway.

 

Scents,

 

Sweet scents

 

Incessantly coming.

 

 

It is red lilies,

 

Lotus lilies,

 

Floating up,

 

And up,

 

Out of Autumn mist.

 

 

Thin clouds

 

Puffed,

 

Fluttered,

 

Blown on a rippling wind

 

Through a mountain pass.

 

 

Young willow shoots

 

Touching,

 

Brushing,

 

The water

 

Of the garden pool.

 

 

 

                                       Yang Kuei-Fei