Rhapsody on the Fairy Disenchantment

Just departed from the willow grove, newly emerged from the flower chamber. Wherever she walks, birds startle from the courtyard trees; As she approaches, her shadow glides along the winding corridor. Her fairy sleeves flutter—one catches the rich scent of musk and orchid; Her lotus garments sway—one hears the chime of jade pendants. Dimpled smile like spring peaches; clouds heaped in her emerald chignon; Lips parting like cherry buds; pomegranate teeth exhaling fragrance. Her slender waist so graceful—whirling wind and dancing snow; Her pearls and kingfisher jewels gleaming—her brow adorned in gold. Appearing and vanishing among the flowers—lovely in anger, lovely in joy; Lingering above the pool—as if flying, as if floating. Moth eyebrows knit in a smile—about to speak, yet silent; Lotus steps just shifting—about to pause, yet moving on. One envies her fine quality—pure as ice, smooth as jade; One admires her splendid garments—brilliant with pattern. One loves her face and form—nurtured by fragrance, carved from jade; One praises her bearing—like phoenix soaring, dragon in flight. How fair her plainness? Spring plum bursting through snow. How pure her whiteness? Autumn chrysanthemum draped in frost. How still her calm? Pine growing in an empty valley. How bright her beauty? Sunset clouds mirrored in a clear pond. How fine her grace? Dragon swimming in a winding pool. How godlike her spirit? Moonlight piercing a cold river. Xi Shi should be ashamed; Wang Zhaojun must yield. How wondrous! Born in what land, come from what place? Truly: unmatched in the Jasper Pool, without equal in the Purple Palace. Who indeed is she? So beautiful as this!