Silk from Wu, paulownia from Shu, <br />Strummed in high autumn, <br />In the white sky the frozen clouds <br />Falling, not floating. <br />Ladies of the River weeping among bamboos, <br />The White Girl mournful <br />As Li Ping plays his harp <br />In the centre of the Kingdom. <br /> <br />Jade from Mount Kun is shattered, <br />Phoenixes shriek, <br />Lotuses are weeping dew, <br />Fragrant orchids smile. <br /> <br />Before the twelve gates of the city <br />The cold light melts, <br />The twenty-three strings can move <br />The Purple Emperor <br /> <br />Where Nü Gua smelted stones <br />To weld the sky, <br />Stones split asunder, sky startles, <br />Autumn rains gush forth. <br />He goes in dreams to the Spirit Mountain <br />To teach the Weird Crone, <br />Old fishes leap above the waves, <br />Gaunt dragons dance. <br /> <br />Wu Ch'i, unsleeping still, <br />Leans on his cassia tree, <br />As wing-foot dew aslant <br />Drenches the shivering hare.<br /><br />Li He<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/li-ping-at-the-vertical-harp-2/
