泠色初澄一带烟，幽声遥泻十丝弦。 长来枕上牵情思，不使愁人半夜眠。 Autumn Spring Hsüeh
Tao The
cold hue nearly clears, a belt of haze; The
mysterious sound gurgles afar, the ten-stringed lute. Endlessly
to my pillow they come, to draw thoughts of love, Not
letting this pensive soul half the night to sleep. |
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