Joyful Play

You spoke of misty rain and a distant view of the Orchid Pavilion;

Later, you gently gathered the swaying curtains, concealing your radiant robes.

You spoke of brilliant spring days, green sleeves, and red fragrance;

Later, you stayed within the western tower, quietly standing by my side.

You spoke of a gentle breeze and lying drunk, lost in thought;

Later, you tightly shut the doors and windows, and the curtains became a veil of sorrow.

You spoke of tender heartstrings and how we could ever forget;

But I only turned my eyes slightly, and frost gathered on its own.