On manifold silk canopy with phoenix tail
She stitches green patterns in the deep of night.
Shy looked her face the moon-shaped fan could hardly veil;
Gone was his rolling cab,speechless,soon lost to sight.
The lonely candle sheds its dim light to deplore;
Red pomegranates see her wait for news with zest.
His dappled horse is tethered to the willow shore.
When can she enjoy the good wind from southwest?
Note:This poem describes the lovesickness of the lonely heroine stitching patterns on the silk canopy for her lover who passed by her in a rolling cab and tethered his horse to the willow tree without giving her further news from the southwest.