A Hundred and Seventy Chinese Poems/Li Fu-jēn

LI FU-JEN

The sound of her silk skirt has stopped.
On the marble pavement dust grows.
Her empty room is cold and still.
Fallen leaves are piled against the doors.
⁠⁠⁠Longing for that lovely lady
How can I bring my aching heart to rest?

 

The above poem was written by Wu-ti when his mistress, Li Fu-jēn, died. Unable to bear his grief, he sent for wizards from all parts of China, hoping that they would be able to put him into communication with her spirit. At last one of them managed to project her shape on to a curtain. The emperor cried:

 

Is it or isn't it?
I stand and look.
The swish, swish of a silk skirt.
How slow she comes!