Fu Xi ordered the White Lady to strum the fifty-string lute Because it was too sad, he for bade her to play, but she would not
stop; so he broke her lute and left twenty-five strings.
Once Zhuangzi dreamed that he was a butterfly... He does not know whether he is Zhuangzi who dreamed that he was a butterfly or a butterfly dreaming that he is Zhuangzi.
Wangdi, legendary ruler of Shu, sent Bie Ling to deal with the floods and debauched his wife. He was ashamed and,
considering Bie Ling a better man than himself, abdicated the state to him. At the time when Wangdi left, the nightjar
began to call. That is why the nightjar's call is sad to the people of Shu and reminds them of Wangdi.
When Wangdi died his soul turned into a bird called the " nightjar. "
Bo Ya strummed his lute, with his mind on climbing high mountains; and Zhong Ziqi said: " Good! Lofty like Mount Tai! "
When his mind was on flowing waters, Zhong. Ziqi said: Good! Boundless like the Yellow River and the Yangtze! "
When the moon is full the oyster has pearls, when the moon is dark the oysteris empty
Beyond the South Sea there are mermaids ( " shark people. " ) who live in the water like fish, but spin like women on land:
their weeping eyes can exude pearls.
When the King was dressing and combing himself, suddenly he saw Purple Jade. " How can it be that you are alive? " he
asked in his amazement, sad and happy at once. Purple Jade kneeled and said: " Once young Han Zhong came to seek me in marriage, and Your Majesty would not allow it; I lost my good name and atoned for the by my death... " Her mother heard
them and came out to embrace her, but Purnk Jade dissolved like smoke
Dai Shulun said that the scene presented by a poet is like the smoke which issues from fine jade when the sun is warm on
Blue Mountain ( " Indigo Field " ); It can be seen from a distance but not from close to.
Mere chance that the patterned lute has fifty strings
String and fret, one by one, recall the blossoming years
Zhuangzi dreams at sunrise that a butterfly lost its way,
Wangdi bequeathing his spring passion to the nightjar
The moon is full on the vast sea, a tear on the pearl
On Blue Mountain the sun warms, a smoke issues from the jade.
Did it wait, this mood, to mature with hindsight?
In a trance from the beginning, then as now.
stop; so he broke her lute and left twenty-five strings.
Once Zhuangzi dreamed that he was a butterfly... He does not know whether he is Zhuangzi who dreamed that he was a butterfly or a butterfly dreaming that he is Zhuangzi.
Wangdi, legendary ruler of Shu, sent Bie Ling to deal with the floods and debauched his wife. He was ashamed and,
considering Bie Ling a better man than himself, abdicated the state to him. At the time when Wangdi left, the nightjar
began to call. That is why the nightjar's call is sad to the people of Shu and reminds them of Wangdi.
When Wangdi died his soul turned into a bird called the " nightjar. "
Bo Ya strummed his lute, with his mind on climbing high mountains; and Zhong Ziqi said: " Good! Lofty like Mount Tai! "
When his mind was on flowing waters, Zhong. Ziqi said: Good! Boundless like the Yellow River and the Yangtze! "
When the moon is full the oyster has pearls, when the moon is dark the oysteris empty
Beyond the South Sea there are mermaids ( " shark people. " ) who live in the water like fish, but spin like women on land:
their weeping eyes can exude pearls.
When the King was dressing and combing himself, suddenly he saw Purple Jade. " How can it be that you are alive? " he
asked in his amazement, sad and happy at once. Purple Jade kneeled and said: " Once young Han Zhong came to seek me in marriage, and Your Majesty would not allow it; I lost my good name and atoned for the by my death... " Her mother heard
them and came out to embrace her, but Purnk Jade dissolved like smoke
Dai Shulun said that the scene presented by a poet is like the smoke which issues from fine jade when the sun is warm on
Blue Mountain ( " Indigo Field " ); It can be seen from a distance but not from close to.
Mere chance that the patterned lute has fifty strings
String and fret, one by one, recall the blossoming years
Zhuangzi dreams at sunrise that a butterfly lost its way,
Wangdi bequeathing his spring passion to the nightjar
The moon is full on the vast sea, a tear on the pearl
On Blue Mountain the sun warms, a smoke issues from the jade.
Did it wait, this mood, to mature with hindsight?
In a trance from the beginning, then as now.