Fox Footprints/Legend
For works with similar titles, see Legend.
Legend
It is not the wind in the young leaves,
It is not the stream whispering in the darkness,
But the mats are stirred by dancing feet
And the air moves with the lisp of brocade.
The lanterns are lit in the lonely room
And the incense is fragrant on the shelf of the Buddha.
Outside the blue snow covers the mountains
And the hydrangea bushes rap against the shoji like weary ghosts—
It is not the stream whispering in the darkness,
But the mats are stirred by dancing feet
And the air moves with the lisp of brocade.
The lanterns are lit in the lonely room
And the incense is fragrant on the shelf of the Buddha.
Outside the blue snow covers the mountains
And the hydrangea bushes rap against the shoji like weary ghosts—
But within there is only a girl dancing before the tablet of her lover
That his spirit may still take its pleasure in her beauty.
That his spirit may still take its pleasure in her beauty.