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The Beauty of
the Southern City
A lovely maiden, free and fair,
Gathers silk in the mountain air.
Soft branches sway and gently
fall,
Fluttering leaves enchant us all.
She rolls her sleeves and we behold,
A wrist so white, with rings of
gold.
Her hair is pinned with a golden
comb,
Her waist adorned with jade and
greenstone.
Pearls and coral adorn her frame,
She glides like a dream, but not
in vain.
Her silk dress floats with the
breeze,
Her gentle smile puts us at ease.
Her beauty shines like morning light,
A sight so rare, a lovely sight.
Yet who knows what the matchmaker
seeks,
If love and wealth are what he
speaks?
For a woman of virtue, hard to find,
In a city where desires bind.
Amidst the clamor of the crowd,
Who knows what she observes and
how?
In her chamber she often sighs,
Yearning for a love that
satisfies.
So tell me, where does she
reside?
In the southern city, by the
wayside. |
