Then the Governor of Han-tung came out to meet us, on a silver saddle with tassels of gold that reached to the ground. And the Initiate of Tzŭ-yang[1] summoned us, blowing on his jade shēng. And Sennin music was made in the tower of Ts'an Hsia,[2] loud as the blended voices of phœnix and roc.
And the Governor of Han-tung, because his long sleeves would not keep still when the flutes called to him, rose and drunkenly danced. Then he brought his embroidered coat and covered me with it, and I slept with my head on his lap.
At the feast our spirits had soared to the Nine Heavens, but before evening we were scattered like stars or rain, flying away over hills and rivers to the frontier of Ch'u. I went back to my mountain to seek my old nest, and you, too, went home, crossing the Wei Bridge.
Then your father, who was brave as leopard or tiger, became Governor of Ping-chou[3] and put down the rebel bands. And in the fifth month he sent for me. I crossed the T'ai-hang Mountains; and though it was hard going on the Sheep's Gut Hills, I paid no heed to broken wheels.
When at last, far on into Winter, I got to the Northern Capital,[4] I was moved to see how much you cared for my reception and how little you cared for the cost—amber cups and fine foods on a blue jade dish. You made me drunk and satisfied. I had no thought of returning.
Sometimes we went out towards the western corner of the City, to where waters like green jade flow round the temple of Shu Yü.[5] We launched our boat and sported on the stream, while flutes and drums sounded. The little waves were like dragon-scales, and the sedge-leaves were pale green. When it was our mood, we took girls with us
