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Song of Everlasting Regret
English Poetic Translation
The monarch of Han lusted for peerless grace, desiring a beauty to sway the state;
For years he sat the throne, his yearning left unfilled.
Yet in the house of Yang a maiden newly bloomed,
Reared deep within the chambers where no stranger's eye could probe.
A heaven-fashioned loveliness too radiant to be hid,
She stepped one morning to shine beside the sovereign's side.
When she turned her glance to smile, a hundred charms awoke,
And all the painted concubines of six palaces turned pale.
In the chill of spring they gave her leave in Huaqing Pool to lave,
Where tepid waters smoothed and washed her cream-white, melting flesh.
Attendant maids supported her, so delicate and frail—
Thus it was she first received the grace of royal bed.
Cloud-soft hair and flower-face, with shaking golden gems,
Within the warm hibiscus tent they spent the spring night through.
Bitter that the spring was short and high the morning sun arose,
From this hour the monarch failed to hold his early court.
Feasting in her wanton grace without a moment's pause,
Following her spring delights, monopolizing every night.
Though three thousand beauties filled the chambers of the court,
All the tenderness and love converged on her alone.
In her golden chamber dressed, she waited through the night;
When the jade pavilion banquets closed, he drank and breathed her spring.
Brothers and sisters one and all were granted fiefs of land,
How tragic that such blinding light should dawn upon their kin!
And so across the empire every parent's heart was swayed,
Slight no more the newborn boys, but pray for daughters born.
High above the Licheh Palace pierced the azure clouds,
Where immortal music drifted on the wind for all to hear.
Slow songs and languid dances drowned the strings and flutes;
All day the ruler gazed and never had his fill.
Then the battle drums of Yuyang shook the trembling earth,
And shattered off the Rainbow Skirt and Feather Garb.
Above the palace turrets thick smoke and dust arose,
As ten thousand horsemen hurried toward the western hills.
The imperial standards wavered, halting on their path;
Scarcely a hundred miles beyond the capital they passed.
The mutinous battalions refused to move an inch,
Till before the horse's hoofs the moth-browed beauty died.
Her floral trinkets strewed the dirt, abandoned and unowned,
Kingfisher plumes and golden sparrows, jade hair-clasps cast away.
The monarch hid his grieving face, powerless to save;
Turning back, his blood and tears commingled as they flowed.
Yellow dust drifted wide, the autumn wind was drear,
As winding planks of cloud ascended through the sword-pass cleft.
Beneath Mount Emei very few travelers now were seen,
Where banners lost their luster and the sun hung pale and thin.
The waters of Shu were emerald, the mountains deeply blue,
Yet morn and eve the holy lord brooded on his love.
At the roadside lodge the moonlight wore a heartbroken hue;
At night the drizzling temple rain rang out a gut-wrenching bell.
Then heaven shifted, the sun turned back the dragon chariot's course;
Yet at this fatal spot he paused, unable to depart.
Down beneath the soil and clay of the Mawei slope,
Her jade face was gone forever, leaving only empty death.
Monarch and ministers gazed through robes soaked thick with tears,
Looking east toward the city gates, letting horses wander home.
Back within the palace grounds, the courts remained the same:
Taiye pools with lotus flowers, Weiyang weeping willows.
Lotus flowers matched her face, willows mirrored brows—
How could he look upon them and not let fall his tears?
When the peach and plum trees blossomed in the spring night's breath,
Or when autumn rains brought down the leaves of wutong trees.
In the southern and western gardens autumn grasses grew,
And red leaves choked the marble steps, left unswept and old.
New white hair had overtaken Pear Garden's young troupe;
Eunuchs of the inner chambers saw their dark brows gray.
In the twilight halls flies buzzed to stir his quiet grief;
The solitary lamp burned low, yet sleep refused to come.
Slowly, slowly beat the drums through the lengthening night;
Bright and clear the Milky Way awaited dawning skies.
Mandarin-duck tiles grew icy under heavy frost,
And the kingfisher quilt was chilly—who shared it with him now?
Years upon long years rolled on through life and death apart,
Yet never once her phantom soul returned to haunt his dreams.
A wandering priest from Linqiong, a guest of Hongdu town,
Possessed the secret magic to summon parted souls.
Pinching heart to match the grief of the sovereign's endless sighs,
He bade the wizard search out far where her spirit fled.
Riding through the vacant air on lightning wings he sped,
Ascending up to heaven, diving deep beneath the earth,
Up to the azure vault he soared, down to the yellow springs,
Yet both realms were vast and misty, showing nought of her.
Then he heard across the ocean of an isle of spirits blessed,
Floating midst the empty vapors and the misty haze.
Towering pavilions rose among five-colored clouds,
And within their lovely courtyards dwelt the fairy queens.
And among them was a spirit whose true style was Taizhen,
With skin of snow and face of flowers, matching well the lost.
He tapped upon the western gate with its heavy jade ring,
And bade Xiaoyu convey the word to Shuangcheng.
Hearing that an envoy came from the Han monarch's court,
Within the flower-brocaded tents her dream-soul woke in shock.
Pushing back her pillow, lifting robes, she paced distraught,
As pearl-beaded screens and silver frames rolled back piece by piece.
Cloudy hair half-tangled still from her sudden sleep,
Without her flowered crown she stepped down the palace hall.
Wind caught at her immortal sleeves and lifted them in flight,
Reminiscent of the measure of the Rainbow Skirt and Feather dance.
Her jade face was desolate, her tears a flowing stream—
A single branch of pear tree blossoms heavy with spring rain.
With deep emotion in her gaze she thanked the royal lord:
Since the day they parted, worlds and voices both grew dim.
In Zhaoyang Palace long ago their mutual love expired;
Now in the halls of Penglai the months and years dragged on.
She turned her head to gaze below toward the mortal sphere,
Where Chang'an was hidden deep in drifting dust and fog.
She drew out ancient tokens to prove her steadfast heart,
And gave a box of gold-inlaid work and a broken hairpin back.
One half the pin she kept, and one half the box she gave,
Snapping the golden hairpin, dividing up the case:
"Let our hearts remain as solid as this gold and hardened pin,
And in heaven or on earth we are bound to meet again."
As they parted, she entrusted one last whisper to his ear—
Vows known only to their hearts, locked in ancient truth:
On the seventh day of the seventh month, in the Palace of Eternal Life,
At the midnight hour when all was still, they had whispered in the dark:
"In the heavens we shall fly as twin birds, sharing wings,
On the earth we'll grow entwined like branches of a tree."
Though heaven and earth shall perish, and time itself must end,
This endless sorrow stretches on through all eternity.
For years he sat the throne, his yearning left unfilled.
Yet in the house of Yang a maiden newly bloomed,
Reared deep within the chambers where no stranger's eye could probe.
A heaven-fashioned loveliness too radiant to be hid,
She stepped one morning to shine beside the sovereign's side.
When she turned her glance to smile, a hundred charms awoke,
And all the painted concubines of six palaces turned pale.
In the chill of spring they gave her leave in Huaqing Pool to lave,
Where tepid waters smoothed and washed her cream-white, melting flesh.
Attendant maids supported her, so delicate and frail—
Thus it was she first received the grace of royal bed.
Cloud-soft hair and flower-face, with shaking golden gems,
Within the warm hibiscus tent they spent the spring night through.
Bitter that the spring was short and high the morning sun arose,
From this hour the monarch failed to hold his early court.
Feasting in her wanton grace without a moment's pause,
Following her spring delights, monopolizing every night.
Though three thousand beauties filled the chambers of the court,
All the tenderness and love converged on her alone.
In her golden chamber dressed, she waited through the night;
When the jade pavilion banquets closed, he drank and breathed her spring.
Brothers and sisters one and all were granted fiefs of land,
How tragic that such blinding light should dawn upon their kin!
And so across the empire every parent's heart was swayed,
Slight no more the newborn boys, but pray for daughters born.
High above the Licheh Palace pierced the azure clouds,
Where immortal music drifted on the wind for all to hear.
Slow songs and languid dances drowned the strings and flutes;
All day the ruler gazed and never had his fill.
Then the battle drums of Yuyang shook the trembling earth,
And shattered off the Rainbow Skirt and Feather Garb.
Above the palace turrets thick smoke and dust arose,
As ten thousand horsemen hurried toward the western hills.
The imperial standards wavered, halting on their path;
Scarcely a hundred miles beyond the capital they passed.
The mutinous battalions refused to move an inch,
Till before the horse's hoofs the moth-browed beauty died.
Her floral trinkets strewed the dirt, abandoned and unowned,
Kingfisher plumes and golden sparrows, jade hair-clasps cast away.
The monarch hid his grieving face, powerless to save;
Turning back, his blood and tears commingled as they flowed.
Yellow dust drifted wide, the autumn wind was drear,
As winding planks of cloud ascended through the sword-pass cleft.
Beneath Mount Emei very few travelers now were seen,
Where banners lost their luster and the sun hung pale and thin.
The waters of Shu were emerald, the mountains deeply blue,
Yet morn and eve the holy lord brooded on his love.
At the roadside lodge the moonlight wore a heartbroken hue;
At night the drizzling temple rain rang out a gut-wrenching bell.
Then heaven shifted, the sun turned back the dragon chariot's course;
Yet at this fatal spot he paused, unable to depart.
Down beneath the soil and clay of the Mawei slope,
Her jade face was gone forever, leaving only empty death.
Monarch and ministers gazed through robes soaked thick with tears,
Looking east toward the city gates, letting horses wander home.
Back within the palace grounds, the courts remained the same:
Taiye pools with lotus flowers, Weiyang weeping willows.
Lotus flowers matched her face, willows mirrored brows—
How could he look upon them and not let fall his tears?
When the peach and plum trees blossomed in the spring night's breath,
Or when autumn rains brought down the leaves of wutong trees.
In the southern and western gardens autumn grasses grew,
And red leaves choked the marble steps, left unswept and old.
New white hair had overtaken Pear Garden's young troupe;
Eunuchs of the inner chambers saw their dark brows gray.
In the twilight halls flies buzzed to stir his quiet grief;
The solitary lamp burned low, yet sleep refused to come.
Slowly, slowly beat the drums through the lengthening night;
Bright and clear the Milky Way awaited dawning skies.
Mandarin-duck tiles grew icy under heavy frost,
And the kingfisher quilt was chilly—who shared it with him now?
Years upon long years rolled on through life and death apart,
Yet never once her phantom soul returned to haunt his dreams.
A wandering priest from Linqiong, a guest of Hongdu town,
Possessed the secret magic to summon parted souls.
Pinching heart to match the grief of the sovereign's endless sighs,
He bade the wizard search out far where her spirit fled.
Riding through the vacant air on lightning wings he sped,
Ascending up to heaven, diving deep beneath the earth,
Up to the azure vault he soared, down to the yellow springs,
Yet both realms were vast and misty, showing nought of her.
Then he heard across the ocean of an isle of spirits blessed,
Floating midst the empty vapors and the misty haze.
Towering pavilions rose among five-colored clouds,
And within their lovely courtyards dwelt the fairy queens.
And among them was a spirit whose true style was Taizhen,
With skin of snow and face of flowers, matching well the lost.
He tapped upon the western gate with its heavy jade ring,
And bade Xiaoyu convey the word to Shuangcheng.
Hearing that an envoy came from the Han monarch's court,
Within the flower-brocaded tents her dream-soul woke in shock.
Pushing back her pillow, lifting robes, she paced distraught,
As pearl-beaded screens and silver frames rolled back piece by piece.
Cloudy hair half-tangled still from her sudden sleep,
Without her flowered crown she stepped down the palace hall.
Wind caught at her immortal sleeves and lifted them in flight,
Reminiscent of the measure of the Rainbow Skirt and Feather dance.
Her jade face was desolate, her tears a flowing stream—
A single branch of pear tree blossoms heavy with spring rain.
With deep emotion in her gaze she thanked the royal lord:
Since the day they parted, worlds and voices both grew dim.
In Zhaoyang Palace long ago their mutual love expired;
Now in the halls of Penglai the months and years dragged on.
She turned her head to gaze below toward the mortal sphere,
Where Chang'an was hidden deep in drifting dust and fog.
She drew out ancient tokens to prove her steadfast heart,
And gave a box of gold-inlaid work and a broken hairpin back.
One half the pin she kept, and one half the box she gave,
Snapping the golden hairpin, dividing up the case:
"Let our hearts remain as solid as this gold and hardened pin,
And in heaven or on earth we are bound to meet again."
As they parted, she entrusted one last whisper to his ear—
Vows known only to their hearts, locked in ancient truth:
On the seventh day of the seventh month, in the Palace of Eternal Life,
At the midnight hour when all was still, they had whispered in the dark:
"In the heavens we shall fly as twin birds, sharing wings,
On the earth we'll grow entwined like branches of a tree."
Though heaven and earth shall perish, and time itself must end,
This endless sorrow stretches on through all eternity.
Classical Chinese & Pinyin
漢皇重色思傾國，御宇多年求不得。
楊家有女初長成，養在深閨人未識。
天生麗質難自棄，一朝選在君王側。
回眸一笑百媚生，六宮粉黛無顏色。
春寒賜浴華清池，溫泉水滑洗凝脂。
侍兒扶起嬌無力，始是新承恩澤時。
雲鬢花顏金步搖，芙蓉帳暖度春宵。
春宵苦短日高起，從此君王不早朝。
承歡侍宴無閑暇，春從春遊夜專夜。
後宮佳麗三千人，三千寵愛在一身。
金屋妝成嬌侍夜，玉樓宴罷醉和春。
姊妹弟兄皆列土，可憐光彩生門戶。
遂令天下父母心，不重生男重生女。
驪宮高處入青雲，仙樂風飄處處聞。
緩歌慢舞凝絲竹，盡日君王看不足。
漁陽鞞鼓動地來，驚破霓裳羽衣曲。
九重城闕煙塵生，千乘萬騎西南行。
翠華搖搖行復止，西出都門百餘裏。
六軍不發無奈何，宛轉蛾眉馬前死。
花鈿委地無人收，翠翹金雀玉搔頭。
君王掩面救不得，回看血淚相和流。
黃埃散漫風蕭索，雲棧縈紆登劒閣。
峨嵋山下少人行，旌旗無光日色薄。
蜀江水碧蜀山青，聖主朝朝暮暮情。
行宮見月傷心色，夜雨聞鈴腸斷聲。
天旋日轉迴龍馭，到此躊躇不能去。
馬嵬坡下泥土中，不見玉顏空死處。
君臣相顧盡霑衣，東望都門信馬歸。
歸來池苑皆依舊，太液芙蓉未央柳。
芙蓉如面柳如眉，對此如何不淚垂？
春風桃李花開夜，秋雨梧桐葉落時。
西宮南苑多秋草，宮葉滿階紅不埽。
棃園弟子白髮新，椒房阿監青娥老。
夕殿螢飛思悄然，孤燈挑盡未成眠。
遲遲鐘鼓初長夜，耿耿星河欲曙天。
鴛鴦瓦冷霜華重，翡翠衾寒誰與共。
悠悠生死別經年，魂魄不曾來入夢。
臨邛道士鴻都客，能以精誠致魂魄。
爲感君王展轉思，遂教方士殷勤覓。
排空馭氣奔如電，昇天入地求之徧。
上窮碧落下黃泉，兩處茫茫皆不見。
忽聞海上有仙山，山在虛無縹緲間。
樓閣玲瓏五雲起，其中綽約多仙子。
中有一人字太真，雪膚花貌參差是。
金闕西廂叩玉扃，轉教小玉報雙成。
聞道漢家天子使，九華帳裏夢魂驚。
攬衣推枕起裴回，珠箔銀屏邐迤開。
雲鬢半偏新睡覺，花冠不整下堂來。
風吹仙袂飄颻舉，猶似霓裳羽衣舞。
玉容寂莫淚闌幹，棃花一枝春帶雨。
含情凝睇謝君王，一別音容兩渺茫。
昭陽殿裏恩愛絕，蓬萊宮中日月長。
回頭下望人寰處，不見長安見塵霧。
唯將舊物表深情，鈿合金釵寄將去。
釵留一股合一扇，釵擘黃金合分鈿。
但教心似金鈿堅，天上人間會相見。
臨別殷勤重寄詞，詞中有誓兩心知。
七月七日長生殿，夜半無人私語時。
在天願作比翼鳥，在地願爲連理枝。
天長地久有時盡，此恨緜緜無絕期。
楊家有女初長成，養在深閨人未識。
天生麗質難自棄，一朝選在君王側。
回眸一笑百媚生，六宮粉黛無顏色。
春寒賜浴華清池，溫泉水滑洗凝脂。
侍兒扶起嬌無力，始是新承恩澤時。
雲鬢花顏金步搖，芙蓉帳暖度春宵。
春宵苦短日高起，從此君王不早朝。
承歡侍宴無閑暇，春從春遊夜專夜。
後宮佳麗三千人，三千寵愛在一身。
金屋妝成嬌侍夜，玉樓宴罷醉和春。
姊妹弟兄皆列土，可憐光彩生門戶。
遂令天下父母心，不重生男重生女。
驪宮高處入青雲，仙樂風飄處處聞。
緩歌慢舞凝絲竹，盡日君王看不足。
漁陽鞞鼓動地來，驚破霓裳羽衣曲。
九重城闕煙塵生，千乘萬騎西南行。
翠華搖搖行復止，西出都門百餘裏。
六軍不發無奈何，宛轉蛾眉馬前死。
花鈿委地無人收，翠翹金雀玉搔頭。
君王掩面救不得，回看血淚相和流。
黃埃散漫風蕭索，雲棧縈紆登劒閣。
峨嵋山下少人行，旌旗無光日色薄。
蜀江水碧蜀山青，聖主朝朝暮暮情。
行宮見月傷心色，夜雨聞鈴腸斷聲。
天旋日轉迴龍馭，到此躊躇不能去。
馬嵬坡下泥土中，不見玉顏空死處。
君臣相顧盡霑衣，東望都門信馬歸。
歸來池苑皆依舊，太液芙蓉未央柳。
芙蓉如面柳如眉，對此如何不淚垂？
春風桃李花開夜，秋雨梧桐葉落時。
西宮南苑多秋草，宮葉滿階紅不埽。
棃園弟子白髮新，椒房阿監青娥老。
夕殿螢飛思悄然，孤燈挑盡未成眠。
遲遲鐘鼓初長夜，耿耿星河欲曙天。
鴛鴦瓦冷霜華重，翡翠衾寒誰與共。
悠悠生死別經年，魂魄不曾來入夢。
臨邛道士鴻都客，能以精誠致魂魄。
爲感君王展轉思，遂教方士殷勤覓。
排空馭氣奔如電，昇天入地求之徧。
上窮碧落下黃泉，兩處茫茫皆不見。
忽聞海上有仙山，山在虛無縹緲間。
樓閣玲瓏五雲起，其中綽約多仙子。
中有一人字太真，雪膚花貌參差是。
金闕西廂叩玉扃，轉教小玉報雙成。
聞道漢家天子使，九華帳裏夢魂驚。
攬衣推枕起裴回，珠箔銀屏邐迤開。
雲鬢半偏新睡覺，花冠不整下堂來。
風吹仙袂飄颻舉，猶似霓裳羽衣舞。
玉容寂莫淚闌幹，棃花一枝春帶雨。
含情凝睇謝君王，一別音容兩渺茫。
昭陽殿裏恩愛絕，蓬萊宮中日月長。
回頭下望人寰處，不見長安見塵霧。
唯將舊物表深情，鈿合金釵寄將去。
釵留一股合一扇，釵擘黃金合分鈿。
但教心似金鈿堅，天上人間會相見。
臨別殷勤重寄詞，詞中有誓兩心知。
七月七日長生殿，夜半無人私語時。
在天願作比翼鳥，在地願爲連理枝。
天長地久有時盡，此恨緜緜無絕期。
Philological Direct Translation
The Han emperor valued colors, yearned for a sovereign-toppling beauty; ruling the universe for many years, he sought her in vain.
In the Yang household, a maiden had just grown up, reared in deep chambers where men knew her not.
Heaven-born natural beauty difficult to cast aside, one day she was chosen to be by the sovereign's side.
Turning her glance, a hundred smiles blossomed, the painted eyebrows of the six palaces lost their colors.
In spring cold, she was granted a bath in Huaqing Pool, warm spring water slippery washing smooth fat.
Attendant maids raised her up, delicate and strengthless; this was the very time she newly received imperial grace.
Cloudy hair, flower-like face, golden hairpins shaking, hibiscus curtains warm, they passed the spring night.
Spring nights bitterly short, the sun rose high; from this time on the sovereign did not hold early court.
Bearing favor and attending banquets without idle moments, spring she followed spring rambles, nights she monopolized nights.
In the inner palace were three thousand beauties, three thousand favors concentrated on one body.
In the golden chamber, makeup finished, she tenderly waited for night; at the jade tower banquets ended, he was drunk and harmonized with spring.
Sisters and brothers all were enfeoffed with land, pitiful how glory sprouted on their gates!
Consequently causing the hearts of parents across the world to no longer value boys, but instead value girls.
Lichun Palace high up entered blue clouds, immortal music, borne on the wind, was heard everywhere.
Slow songs and languid dances congealed string and bamboo; all day the sovereign gazed without satisfying.
Yuyang battle drums came shaking the earth, startling and breaking the Rainbow Skirt and Feather Garb melody.
Above the nine-fold palace gates, smoke and dust arose; a thousand chariots and ten thousand horsemen traveled southwest.
The imperial banners shook and swayed, moving then halting; west they exited the capital gates a hundred odd miles.
The six armies refused to advance, there was no alternative; winding moth eyebrows died before the horses.
Flower hairpins fell to the earth, no one picked them up: kingfisher ornaments, golden sparrows, and jade hair-scratchers.
The sovereign covered his face, unable to save her; looking back, blood and tears flowed mixed together.
Yellow dust scattered and diffused, the wind was desolate; the cloud-planks wound circuitously as they ascended the sword passes.
Below Emei Mountain few people walked; banners and flags lacked brightness, the sun's color was faint.
Shu River water blue, Shu mountains green; the holy lord morning and night was filled with passion.
At the temporary palace, seeing the moon, it was a heartbreaking color; hearing bells in the night rain, it was a gut-wrenching sound.
The heavens revolved and the sun turned, the dragon chariot returned; reaching this spot, he hesitated and could not leave.
Below Mawei Slope, in the muddy earth, the jade face was not seen, only the empty place of death.
Monarch and ministers looked at each other, their garments soaked; looking east toward the capital gates, they let the horses return as they wished.
Returning, the pool and gardens were all as of old: Taiye hibiscus and Weiyang willows.
Hibiscus was like her face, willows like her brows; facing these, how could tears not fall?
In the spring wind, peach and plum flowers bloomed at night; in the autumn rain, wutong leaves fell.
In the western palace and southern courtyard were many autumn grasses; palace leaves filled the steps, red and unswept.
Pear Garden disciples had new white hair; pepper-chamber eunuchs and green-browed maids had aged.
In the evening hall, fireflies flew, stirring silent thoughts; the solitary lamp was wicked down to the end, yet sleep was not achieved.
Slow, slow, the bells and drums began the long night; bright, bright, the Milky Way awaited the dawning sky.
Mandarin duck tiles were cold, heavy frost flowers; the kingfisher quilt was chilly, with whom could it be shared?
Remote, remote, life and death separated for years; her soul and spirit never came to enter his dreams.
A Daoist priest of Linqiong, a guest of Hongdu, was able with sincere devotion to summon souls and spirits.
Because he pitied the sovereign's restless longing, he ordered the fangshi to diligently search for her.
Dividing the void, riding the breath, he rushed like lightning; ascending heaven and entering earth, he searched everywhere.
Upwards he exhausted the azure vault, downwards the yellow springs; both places were vast and hazy, neither saw her.
Suddenly he heard of an immortal mountain upon the sea, the mountain amidst the void and misty distance.
Exquisite pavilions and towers with five-colored clouds arising; among them were many graceful fairy maidens.
In their midst was one whose courtesy name was Taizhen, snow-skin and flower-appearance, more or less matching.
At the golden gate's western chamber he knocked on the jade latch, and turned to instruct Xiaoyu to report to Shuangcheng.
Hearing it was the envoy of the Han family's Son of Heaven, within the nine-fold flower curtains the dream-soul was startled.
Gathering her robe and pushing the pillow, she arose and paced back and forth; pearl curtains and silver screens opened one after another.
Cloudy hair half-slanting, newly awakened from sleep; flower crown unadjusted, she came down the hall.
Wind blew her immortal sleeves, fluttering aloft; she still resembled the Rainbow Skirt and Feather Garb dance.
Her jade face was desolate, tears streaming across; a branch of pear blossoms brought spring rain.
Holding feeling, gazing intently, she thanked the sovereign; since one parting, voice and appearance had both grown dim and vague.
In Zhaoyang Palace love and favor had been severed; in Penglai Palace months and years were long.
Turning her head to look down at the human realm, she saw not Chang'an, only dust and mist.
She only took old objects to express deep affection, sending away a gold-inlaid box and a hairpin.
The hairpin was kept in one strand, the box in one half; she broke the gold and divided the box.
Only teaching their hearts to be as firm as the gold and hairpin, in heaven or on earth they would meet again.
At parting, earnestly she entrusted her words once more; within the words were vows that two hearts knew.
On the seventh day of the seventh month, in the Palace of Eternal Life, at midnight when no one was about, they whispered in secret:
In heaven we wish to be birds with matching wings, on earth we wish to be twin branches interlocked.
Heaven and earth, long and enduring, at some time will end; this regret stretches on and on, with no termination period.
In the Yang household, a maiden had just grown up, reared in deep chambers where men knew her not.
Heaven-born natural beauty difficult to cast aside, one day she was chosen to be by the sovereign's side.
Turning her glance, a hundred smiles blossomed, the painted eyebrows of the six palaces lost their colors.
In spring cold, she was granted a bath in Huaqing Pool, warm spring water slippery washing smooth fat.
Attendant maids raised her up, delicate and strengthless; this was the very time she newly received imperial grace.
Cloudy hair, flower-like face, golden hairpins shaking, hibiscus curtains warm, they passed the spring night.
Spring nights bitterly short, the sun rose high; from this time on the sovereign did not hold early court.
Bearing favor and attending banquets without idle moments, spring she followed spring rambles, nights she monopolized nights.
In the inner palace were three thousand beauties, three thousand favors concentrated on one body.
In the golden chamber, makeup finished, she tenderly waited for night; at the jade tower banquets ended, he was drunk and harmonized with spring.
Sisters and brothers all were enfeoffed with land, pitiful how glory sprouted on their gates!
Consequently causing the hearts of parents across the world to no longer value boys, but instead value girls.
Lichun Palace high up entered blue clouds, immortal music, borne on the wind, was heard everywhere.
Slow songs and languid dances congealed string and bamboo; all day the sovereign gazed without satisfying.
Yuyang battle drums came shaking the earth, startling and breaking the Rainbow Skirt and Feather Garb melody.
Above the nine-fold palace gates, smoke and dust arose; a thousand chariots and ten thousand horsemen traveled southwest.
The imperial banners shook and swayed, moving then halting; west they exited the capital gates a hundred odd miles.
The six armies refused to advance, there was no alternative; winding moth eyebrows died before the horses.
Flower hairpins fell to the earth, no one picked them up: kingfisher ornaments, golden sparrows, and jade hair-scratchers.
The sovereign covered his face, unable to save her; looking back, blood and tears flowed mixed together.
Yellow dust scattered and diffused, the wind was desolate; the cloud-planks wound circuitously as they ascended the sword passes.
Below Emei Mountain few people walked; banners and flags lacked brightness, the sun's color was faint.
Shu River water blue, Shu mountains green; the holy lord morning and night was filled with passion.
At the temporary palace, seeing the moon, it was a heartbreaking color; hearing bells in the night rain, it was a gut-wrenching sound.
The heavens revolved and the sun turned, the dragon chariot returned; reaching this spot, he hesitated and could not leave.
Below Mawei Slope, in the muddy earth, the jade face was not seen, only the empty place of death.
Monarch and ministers looked at each other, their garments soaked; looking east toward the capital gates, they let the horses return as they wished.
Returning, the pool and gardens were all as of old: Taiye hibiscus and Weiyang willows.
Hibiscus was like her face, willows like her brows; facing these, how could tears not fall?
In the spring wind, peach and plum flowers bloomed at night; in the autumn rain, wutong leaves fell.
In the western palace and southern courtyard were many autumn grasses; palace leaves filled the steps, red and unswept.
Pear Garden disciples had new white hair; pepper-chamber eunuchs and green-browed maids had aged.
In the evening hall, fireflies flew, stirring silent thoughts; the solitary lamp was wicked down to the end, yet sleep was not achieved.
Slow, slow, the bells and drums began the long night; bright, bright, the Milky Way awaited the dawning sky.
Mandarin duck tiles were cold, heavy frost flowers; the kingfisher quilt was chilly, with whom could it be shared?
Remote, remote, life and death separated for years; her soul and spirit never came to enter his dreams.
A Daoist priest of Linqiong, a guest of Hongdu, was able with sincere devotion to summon souls and spirits.
Because he pitied the sovereign's restless longing, he ordered the fangshi to diligently search for her.
Dividing the void, riding the breath, he rushed like lightning; ascending heaven and entering earth, he searched everywhere.
Upwards he exhausted the azure vault, downwards the yellow springs; both places were vast and hazy, neither saw her.
Suddenly he heard of an immortal mountain upon the sea, the mountain amidst the void and misty distance.
Exquisite pavilions and towers with five-colored clouds arising; among them were many graceful fairy maidens.
In their midst was one whose courtesy name was Taizhen, snow-skin and flower-appearance, more or less matching.
At the golden gate's western chamber he knocked on the jade latch, and turned to instruct Xiaoyu to report to Shuangcheng.
Hearing it was the envoy of the Han family's Son of Heaven, within the nine-fold flower curtains the dream-soul was startled.
Gathering her robe and pushing the pillow, she arose and paced back and forth; pearl curtains and silver screens opened one after another.
Cloudy hair half-slanting, newly awakened from sleep; flower crown unadjusted, she came down the hall.
Wind blew her immortal sleeves, fluttering aloft; she still resembled the Rainbow Skirt and Feather Garb dance.
Her jade face was desolate, tears streaming across; a branch of pear blossoms brought spring rain.
Holding feeling, gazing intently, she thanked the sovereign; since one parting, voice and appearance had both grown dim and vague.
In Zhaoyang Palace love and favor had been severed; in Penglai Palace months and years were long.
Turning her head to look down at the human realm, she saw not Chang'an, only dust and mist.
She only took old objects to express deep affection, sending away a gold-inlaid box and a hairpin.
The hairpin was kept in one strand, the box in one half; she broke the gold and divided the box.
Only teaching their hearts to be as firm as the gold and hairpin, in heaven or on earth they would meet again.
At parting, earnestly she entrusted her words once more; within the words were vows that two hearts knew.
On the seventh day of the seventh month, in the Palace of Eternal Life, at midnight when no one was about, they whispered in secret:
In heaven we wish to be birds with matching wings, on earth we wish to be twin branches interlocked.
Heaven and earth, long and enduring, at some time will end; this regret stretches on and on, with no termination period.