恨寄朱弦上,含情意不任。
早知云雨会,未起蕙兰心。
灼灼桃兼李,无妨国士寻。
苍苍松与桂,仍羡世人钦。
月色苔阶净,歌声竹院深。
门前红叶地,不扫待知音。
I find myself full of hate
for this vermilion lute
when I know perfectly well
how much I ought to love it
remembering clouds and rain—
our passionate affair
I shouldn't be stirring up
those lost perfumes
gifted disciples—
brilliant plums and peaches
nothing should hurt the career
of such an eminent scholar
dark green pines
vast and hazy laurels
admiration coming in
from people all over the world
the moonlight colors the moss
on the clear steps of the terrace
sound of a voice that's singing
deep in a bamboo courtyard
red leaves all over the ground
and heaped against the door
not to be cleared away
until he comes to visit.
Five-character poem
This is another poem, from her last year or so, which indicates Yu Xuanji knows she is dying. Pines are a symbol of long life and they are passing beyond her expectations. Laurel groves also have something to do with Daoist virtue and she no longer expects to achieve this either. She knew which road she wanted and took it. But she didn't reach the end. Of course, who does? You can practice what she practiced for eight decades and the end of the road is still 仓仓天涯遥, beyond the distant edge of Heaven.
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