The broad avenues of Chang'an connect narrow lanes,
Green oxen, white horses, and seven-scented carriages.
Jade coaches crisscross past noble mansions,
Golden whips in endless streams toward marquises' gates.
Dragon-head canopies bear the morning sun,
Phoenix-mouth tassels trail the evening clouds.
Hundred-foot gossamer threads vie to twine round trees,
A flock of charming birds sing together among blossoms.
By a thousand gates, blossoms and playful butterflies,
Jade trees and silver terraces in myriad hues.
Covered walkways with lattice windows form love-knots,
Twin towers with linked roofs droop like phoenix wings.
The painted halls of the Liang house rise to the sky,
The Han emperor's bronze pillar stands beyond the clouds.
Gazing at each other from towers, yet unknown,
Meeting on the road, how could they recognize?
I ask the one who plays the flute toward purple mist—
Once she learned dance, spending her fragrant years.
If we could be like paired fish, why fear death?
I'd rather be mandarin ducks than envy immortals.
Paired fish and mandarin ducks truly enviable,
Going and coming together—do you not see?
She loathes the lone phoenix embroidered on her bed curtain,
Prefers to paste paired swallows on the door screen.
Paired swallows fly around painted beams,
Silken curtains, emerald quilts, and tulip scent.
Wispy clouds adorn cicada-wing temples,
Slender crescent moons grace raven-yellow foreheads.
Raven-yellow, powder-white emerge from carriages,
Laden with coquetry, each mood distinct.
Dandies on fine horses with iron-coin patterns,
Courtesans with coiled-dragon gold knee ornaments.
In the Censorate, crows cry at night,
Before the Chief Justice's gate, sparrows seek to roost.
Dimly, vermilion walls face the jade-paved road,
Far off, green canopies vanish on the gold embankment.
Carrying crossbows, flying hawks north of Duling,
Drawing lots for assassins west of Wei Bridge.
All invite gallants with lotus-blossom swords,
To lodge together in courtesans' lanes of peach and plum.
At dusk, courtesans in purple silk skirts,
A clear song's turn—the air grows fragrant.
In north halls, night after night, faces like the moon,
On south paths, morning after morning, riders like clouds.
South paths, north halls connect to the Northern Quarter,
Five crossroads, three streets control three markets.
Tender willows and green locusts sweep the ground,
Auspicious air and red dust rise to darken the sky.
Han-period Golden Guards come with a thousand riders,
Jadeite wine, Tu Su brew, in parrot cups.
Silken blouses and jeweled belts are loosened for you,
Yan songs and Zhao dances begin for you.
There are others, mighty and grand, called generals and ministers,
Turning the sun, reversing heaven—none yield.
Their pride has ever ousted the likes of Guan Fu,
Their monopoly brooks no rival like Chancellor Xiao.
Monopoly and pride are inherently heroic,
Green dragons, purple swallows ride the spring breeze.
They boast their song and dance will last a thousand years,
Claim their arrogance and luxury surpass the five lords.
Seasons and scenery wait for no one,
Mulberry fields and blue seas change in an instant.
Once, golden steps and white-jade halls—
Now, only green pines are seen.
Silent and lonely, Yang Xiong's dwelling,
Year after year, a bed full of books.
Only the cassia blooms on South Mountain thrive,
Flying back and forth, brushing against one's robe.