I Would Betray the World, But Never You

On the day at Dinghu, he abandoned the world; after defeating the enemy and reclaiming the capital, he descended through Yuguan.

The six armies wept in mourning white; in a fit of rage, he charged forth for a beauty.

A beauty lost to the world was not what I sought; the rebels would perish by Heaven's hand, feasting in their own debauchery.

Like lightning, I swept away the Yellow Turbans and pacified Heishan; when I had finished mourning my lord and kin, we met again.

We first met again at the Tian and Dou households; in the marquis's halls, the dances blossomed like flowers.

He promised me a palace musician skilled in the konghou, and I waited for the general's curtained carriage.

My home was in Huanhua Lane, Gusu; my childhood name was Yuanyuan, dressed in fine silks.

In a dream, I wandered through Fuchai's garden; palace maids ushered me in as the king rose.

Perhaps in a former life I gathered lotus flowers; before my gate stretched the waters of Hengtang.