作者：佚名
The Moon over the West River
To the Fairy of Mume Flower
Your bones of jade defy miasmal death;
Your flesh of snow exhales immortal breath.
The sea sprite among flowers often sends to you
A golden-eyed, green-feathered cockatoo.
Powder would spoil your face;
Your lips need no rouge cream.
As high as morning cloud you rise with grace;
With pear flower you won’t share your dream.
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