by Abbott Fuller Graves,
In the East Wind's night,myriad trees bloom with blossoms,blown off like falling stars,Carriages adorned with jade and fragrant with incense line the road,accompanied by phoenix flute melodies and the rotating glow of lanterns,as dragons and fish dance throughout the night,Amidst ornaments of golden thread and snow-white willow branches,laughter lingers and fragrance departs,Searching thousands of times among the crowd,suddenly looking back,there she stands,in the dim light beyond the lamps,