Her sash fluttered, and her fragrant sleeves swept lightly through the air. With a graceful figure, she stood poised and still. What a lovely young woman. A single casual turn was enough to leave anyone spellbound. It was easy to believe that this land had nurtured such a fair and delicate beauty. Her face was slender and pointed, and her limpid eyes seemed to ensnare the soul. No one could tell what she was gazing at; at that moment, she seemed weighed down by her thoughts. Along the river, green grasses line the bank and willows shade the dike. I ask, what is this new sorrow, and why does it return year after year?
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It feels pretty good, come on!