Po Chü-i: Morning Studies

Smooth and white the walls that ring the pool, Carefully swept the rose-walk's mossy green, Across the water dimpling winds blow cool Where lotus-leaves as large as fans are seen. What does yon flower-bright pavilion hold? Simply a lute and there a song enscrolled. To the sound of dropping pearls I turn the leaves, Playing, swaying beneath the spell the soul of Autumn weaves. Thus quietly the morning studies end, And so I wait my friend.