The cloudy moring in the South Ridges
long absence of distinguished guests
a pot of good wine
we intoxicated the spring scenery
The moony evening in the West Lake
a bosom friend had a date
two cups of tea
we chanted the summer lotuses
Drizzle and gentle breeze
the mountain was high and green
the beauty’s face and the peach blossoms
their postures were pretty
Fish sinking and geese falling
the island was elegant and was reflected in the waves
the delicate eyebrows and the willow leaves
their shadows were whirling