THE PALACE WOMAN OF HAN TAN BECOMES THE WIFE OF THE SOLDIERS' COOK

Once the Unworthy One was a maiden of the Ts'ung Terrace. Joyfully lifting my moth-pencilled eyebrows, I entered the carnation-coloured Palace. Relying on myself, my flower-like face, How should I know that it would wither and fade? Banished below the jade steps, Gone as the early morning clouds are gone, Whenever I think of Han Tan City I dream of the Autumn moon from the middle of the Palace. I cannot see the Prince, my Lord. Desolate, my longing—until daylight comes.