To the Tune of Yü-chia ao
Evening of the Seventh Day of the Seventh Month of the Year
The magpies fill the Milky Way, the fairy waves are shallow.
The cloud-chariot is already by the Star Bridge.
With the fading end of the twilight glow
The street drum announces the hour.
The bright daylight shrinks.
To the west of the sky a golden crescent hangs tiltedly.
Parted for a whole year, they now meet again.
Where do old woes and new joy end?
Treasure this joyful period in Heaven,
The good night is short.
On earth, the silver-marker of the water-clock should not be urging time on men!
（Teresa Yee-wha Yü 译）