"The wind rustled and made strange sounds, and the clouds were long and strange. The boat stopped at the water's edge, and the car stopped at the side of the mountain. The oars were able to move forward, and the horses neighed in the cold. Who can resist the golden wine cup? The jade pillar can be touched by the stone cart. The people who live there lie down in sorrow, as if they have died.
The sun sank down on the wall and darkened the color, and the moon flew up on the porch. See red orchids receive dew, see green Chinese masson leaves frost. I walked through the layers of pillars and covered them with nothing. I caressed the brocade curtain and felt cold. I know the hesitation of my dream, the flying of my soul..."
