Misty Rain over Jiangnan

I keep my long hair for you, and let it down until you come to bind it. My white silk gown is light and thin; I still blush as I face the dawn mirror. I lift the curtain and step onto the flower path, deep and secluded.

I lower my head, thinking of the one I left behind, where the path winds deep to the place we once played at picking grass. Once, our shadows walked side by side; now flowers fill the tower. Back then, I could linger in longing, never imagining the day you would leave.

Sometimes I hear a flute’s mournful notes, and tears keep soaking my kerchief. The breeze stirs my silk skirts, and cold dew gathers on the jade steps. I gather up my hair and sigh to myself: I keep my long hair for you.