The Eastern Castle stands tall and high; Far and wide stretch the towers that guard it. The whirling wind uprises and shakes the earth; The autumn grasses grow thick and green. The four seasons alternate without pause, The year’s end hurries swiftly on. The Bird of the Morning Wind is stricken with sorrow; The frail cicada suffers and is hard pressed. Free and clear, let us loosen the bonds of our hearts. Why should we go on always restraining and binding? In Yen and Chao are many fair ladies, Beautiful people with faces like jade. Their clothes are made all of silk gauze. They stand at the door practising tranquil lays. The echo of their singing, how sad it sounds! By the pitch of the song one knows the stops have been tightened. To ease their minds they arrange their shawls and belts; Lowering their song, a little while they pause. “I should like to be those two flying swallows Who are carrying clay to nest in the eaves of your house.”