| 英譯： |
A THING of stone beside Lake Kouen-ming
Has for a thousand sutumes borne the name
Of the Celestial Weaver. Like that star
She shines above the waters, wondering
At her pale loveliness. $(Unnumbered)$ waves
Have broidered with green moss the marble folds
About her feet. $(Toiling eternally)$
$(They knock the stone,)$ like tireless shuttles plied
Upon a sounding loom.
Her pearly locks
Resemble snow-coils on the mountain top;
Her eyebrows arch—the crescent moon. A smile
Lies in the opened lily of her face;
And, since she breathes not, $(being stone,)$ the birds
Light on her shoulders, flutter without fear
$(At her still breast. Immovable she stands)$
Before the shining mirror of her charms
And, gazing on their beauty, lets the years
Slip into centuries past her. . . .
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