吴丝蜀桐张高秋,空山凝云颓不流。
江娥啼竹素女愁,李凭中国弹箜篌。
昆山玉碎凤凰叫,芙蓉泣露香兰笑。
十二门前融冷光,二十三丝动紫皇。
女娲炼石补天处,石破天惊逗秋雨。
梦入神山教神妪,老鱼跳波瘦蛟舞。
吴质不眠倚桂树,露脚斜飞湿寒兔。
Silk of Wu, wutong of Shu and the expanse of autumn high,
Hollow mountains, frozen clouds and stunted water flow.
Jiang E weeps over bamboos, and Su Nü groans,
Li Ping, in central China, is playing the Konghou.
Jade shatters on Kunlun Mountains, and phoenixes shriek,
Lotuses crying dews, and scented orchids smile,
In front of the twelve gates, the icy light thaws.
Twenty-three strings enthuse the Purple Emperor.
Where Nüwa tempers stones to repair the sky,
The stones break, Heaven in shock, and tickle the autumn rain.
Dreaming of entering the Fairy Mount to instruct the Fairy Mom,
Old fish jumping waves, and wiry dragons dancing round.
Wu Zhi, unable to sleep, leans rapt against the osmanthus tree.
The legs of dew, with side-kicks, wet the rabbit cold.
By Li He
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