Hey, FADED daffodil, FLOATING DOWN THE RIVER TO TIENOUAN! IF YOU SEE THERE A YOUNG GIRL DREAMING, UNDER A CINNAMON TREE which HAS BLOSSOMED TWICE SINCE WE EMBRACED, TELL HER
Why not consecrate ourselves to the queen of the Camelias, and revel in the warm stream of sympathy that flows from her altar? In the liquid amber within the ivory
The grass does not refuse To flourish in the spring wind. The leaves are not angry At falling through the autumn sky. Who, with whip or spur Can urge the