蹴罢秋千,起来慵整纤纤手。
露浓花瘦,薄汗轻衣透。
见客入来,袜刬金钗溜。
和羞走,倚门回首,却把青梅嗅。
After played the swing,
i went to wash my hand with rose petals.
Dew on the rose garden,
the sexy sweat drenched my thin shirt.
Heard someone coming,
ran off barefoot.
Lost my hairpin and socks,
on the gate toward the corridor,
i shyly smelt green plum,pretended i haven't seen that pretty boy.
By Li Qingzhao
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