This ancient palace lies abandoned here As remnant flowers scatter blooms bright red; The palace maidens now are white-haired dames Who sit in idle talk of times long dead.
The fresh rice wine is fragrant, bubbling green, A fire beneath my small red pot of clay. Now night has come, the sky is filled with snow— So, would you have a cup with me and stay?
Last night I left my skirt and belt undone, This morning now a lucky spider flies; I start to gather scents and makeup quick For soon I think I’ll see my husband’s eyes.