Mist, thin and scattered, indistinct.
In dream, I call it pear-blossom cloud.
Jade Pool's gleam, Penglai's snow.
Green leaves, white flowers bloom in turn.
Not from earthly branches grown,
But twining round celestial palaces high.
Heaven's breeze, soft, cannot tear it apart.
White splendor fears fragrance sullied by dew.
Jade chamber's maidens all gaze in wonder,
Mistaking it for cranes o'er fairy peaks.
Falling petals, scattered powder, fill the sky.
Are pear blossoms' hues the same or not?
Eyes strain, arms short, cannot grasp it.
Even if grasped, 'tis as if from a dream.
None can unravel this dream for me.
This pear-blossom song, I hold dear in heart.