SUNG TO THE AIR: "LOOKING SOUTH OVER THE RIVER AND DREAMING"
Florence Wheelock Ayscough translation
BY WÊN T'ING-YÜN
The hair is combed, The face is washed, All is done. Alone, in the upper story of my Summer-house, I bend forward, looking at the river. A thousand sails pass—but among all of them the one is not. The slant sunlight will not speak, It will not speak. The long-stretched water scarcely moves. My bowels are broken within me. Oh! Island of the White Water Flowers!