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The Banquet at Qing-du Palace

Lu, Zu-gao (He passed the Advanced Exam in 1199 A.D.)

    The spirit of Spring flies from the flute music. The birds' chirps come across the wall in random sounds. In the towns lining the river, songs are harmoniously accompanied by flute music; the fragrance from silk garments warms my heart. Like the ice on the mighty Lu River melting unknowingly, my best years have passed in wine and dreams. I expect that my lover is stranded at Sui Dike. Her yearning might be aroused by the blossoms at Liang Garden.

    Recently, the sound of wild geese has come from the broad clouds and the reflected image of a flying phoenix has shorn the mirror-like lake into two. We should go our separate ways just like these two kinds of birds. In my yard at this moment, Spring weeps with drizzling rain and the pale moon is covered with sorrow. My heart is broken before I speak. Fortunately, I can still climb high and look into the distance. How can I bear to see that withered grass extends to the sky and fallen blossoms dance in the sunset?