The Fair Lady (Du Fu: The Fair Lady)

A rare beauty, peerless in this world, dwells alone in the empty mountain valley. She says she was once a fine daughter of a pure family, but now drifts in ruin, clinging to grasses and trees. In those days, war raged incessantly through the Guanzhong region, and her brothers were cruelly slain. What use is it to speak of high rank and noble station? Even their bones could not be gathered for burial. The ways of the world loathe those who have fallen; all things shift and change like flickering candle flames. Her husband was once a frivolous, faithless man, and now his new wife is as lovely as jade. Even the mimosa knows to open and close at the proper hour; mandarin ducks never spend the night alone. He sees only the new wife’s laughter—how could he hear the old wife’s weeping? Spring water in the mountains is clear, but once it flows from the gorge, it turns muddy. Her maid has just returned from selling pearls; she gathers vines to mend the thatched hut. She plucks wildflowers but does not pin them in her hair; picking cypress seeds, her hands are soon full. The weather is cold, and her green sleeves are thin; at dusk, she leans alone against the tall green bamboo.