Worrying Clothes

Prologue Pity the Pavilion, where dance halls and song stages turn in endless splendor. Amid such extravagant glory, you look coldly upon the mortal world, your deep devotion now all for naught. Some say it was like Emperor Ai and his lover, some say it was like Duke Ling and his leftover peach. Affection fades and ends, a handsome guest enters the curtains. A sigh, a laugh: do not take it for truth. Laugh once more, and seas turn to fields, those who shared a bed become strangers. My lord, take pity: see me off at dawn, and welcome your guest again. Dancing in sorrow's robes, carved like jade, lovely as powder, long sleeves sweep and flutter in the wind. Not like those languid almond eyes, not like those tender brows. In the prime of youth, restless upon the bed, she strikes a pose and smiles, her beauty enough to topple a city. Though she gives herself over without restraint, who knows how much love remains? Dancing in sorrow's robes, why force yourself to grieve? Laughter and words, while the heart aches. Theme: