On the plain porcelain, the blue-and-white strokes shift from dark to light.
The peonies painted on the vase look just like you at your first makeup.
The sandalwood incense drifts through the window; I understand the thoughts in your heart.
The brush moves across the rice paper, then stops halfway.
The glaze brings the painting of a beautiful maiden to life, its charm kept hidden away.
And your lovely smile is like a flower just about to bloom.
Your beauty drifts away to a place I cannot reach.
The sky-blue glaze waits for the rain, while I wait for you.
Cooking smoke curls up, with thousands of miles between us across the river.
On the base of the vase, I write in Han clerical script, imitating the elegance of an earlier age.
Let this be my prelude to meeting you.
The sky-blue glaze waits for the rain, while I wait for you.
The moonlight is scooped up, spreading out the ending.
Like a time-honored piece of blue-and-white porcelain, beautiful all on its own, your eyes are full of smiles.
White as snow, with blue orchids leaping vividly across the vase.
As I copy the Song-style lettering for the signature, my thoughts are still with you.
You are the secret hidden in the kiln for a thousand years,
So delicate, like an embroidery needle falling to the ground.
Banana leaves beyond the curtain bring a sudden rain; the ring on the door gathers a patina of green.
And as I passed through that little town in Jiangnan, I met you.
In the ink-wash landscape, you vanished into the depths of the ink.
The sky-blue glaze waits for the rain, while I wait for you.
Cooking smoke curls up, with thousands of miles between us across the river.
On the base of the vase, I write in Han clerical script, imitating the elegance of an earlier age.
Let this be my prelude to meeting you.
The sky-blue glaze waits for the rain, while I wait for you.
The moonlight is scooped up, spreading out the ending.
Like a time-honored piece of blue-and-white porcelain, beautiful all on its own, your eyes are full of smiles.
