"In Wencheng, Jiangnan, by the banks of West Lake; flowers bloom in splendor, and willow catkins drift through the air. A beautiful woman and a gifted young man lean together by the railing. Unable to bear letting the years slip away, I met my beloved by chance. Though a thousand miles lay between us, we fell in love at first sight. We whispered sweet nothings, our love deep and true. Now spring fills the world, yet there is no one to wander with; I have no one to share my thoughts with, and no chance to meet you before the screen. Sitting alone by the lamp, I wonder if you have been well since we parted. Shut away in my chamber, I wonder if you are happy now. Once you were north and I was south, separated by a thousand mountains and ten thousand rivers; now you are in heaven and I on earth, divided by three realms and the dark blue sea. People gone, things changed, time slips away in an instant. Nothing is as it was. I can only dream of my darling brother! The phoenix hairpin, the moon not yet full; so many things are broken, the night is long, and sleep will not come. I think of you in the wind, remember you in dreams, and speak a few foolish words, raising my cup to the moon in vain. We faced each other in the depths of the chilly dawn, yet seemed to have nothing to say. The dream by the railing is gone, and frost flowers fill the courtyard. I alone am lost in sorrow. Whom can I tell the thoughts I cannot bring myself to speak? So much love: if fate allows, we will meet again. Who lightly cuts the flying snow in the twelfth month? The courtyard is full of moonlight and frost. I dance, graceful and light, but cannot put my thoughts to paper; the moon is thin, and I long to lean against the western tower and gaze at the jade rabbit. Let this be a toast to the moonlit beauty of the mortal world! Yet all I can do is watch the snow left behind fill the curtains. Poor me, waiting so long for you to return. Another bitter night, facing emptiness alone. You speak of the thousand pains of parting, while our lovely moments slip away.
When we meet once in a while, our burning desire lacks tenderness, like the whispering of autumn insects. The lonely days leave me wandering alone, facing emptiness, like the mournful cry of a cicada. Night falls, and you are gone; left alone at the post station, I grieve. Yesterday was like a spring dream. Who will share it with me? I can only sing the Phoenix Hairpin song alone. After a brief union, I wake at dawn to face an empty bed. Beauty fades easily; I can only sigh over fallen flowers. I think of the willows on the bank, the morning breeze, and the waning moon! The cold moon glows faintly. I sigh: 'The lone goose flies away. Where has my beloved gone?' The setting sun is pale. Our love is tender and sorrowful, the breeze gentle; my fragrant chamber is locked, and the cold moonlight seeps through the curtains. The wind stirs, the rain blurs; summer is ending, and autumn winds bring sorrow. A lone goose flies, and tears fall from both eyes. I wait, and wait, and wait. The lonely night stretches on, and sorrow weighs on my heart. Sweet, sweet, sweet. I have no intention of sleeping, yet I will still keep you company."
A brief note on "Ode to Missing You": [Forgive Yan Lan for lacking literary talent and being unable to write this herself. Once my writing improves, I'll replace it.]
He: Gao Zhan, the historically debauched Emperor Wucheng. Why did he sink into despair and never recover? Was it a sudden change in his nature, or was there another reason?
She: Lu Zhen, the renowned female chancellor of history. How did she struggle forward, step by step? With her innocent heart, how could she survive in this man-eating imperial harem? Was it for him, or for herself?
Only she knew how she had managed not to imagine the worst when she learned the news that year. She owed him, Dan Niang, and the Empress. She owed so many people, far too many to ever repay. Was this heaven's retribution against her?
Young women were selected and brought into the palace, where consorts were gathered in great numbers: three consorts, nine concubines, twenty-seven ladies of the palace, and eighty-one imperial attendants. With so many titles, what did she mean to him? Was she nothing but a concubine?
Princess Tongchang. The Empress. The thirty-year treaty with Chen.
"The autumn moon is frosty and bright. Now you and I are worlds apart. I drink a cup of rough wine, swallowing a few measures of desolation."
Now we are only inches apart, yet all is desolate.
Come on(? ??_??)?