There's a girl from Loyang in the door across the street，

　　She looks fifteen， she may be a little older.

　　……While her master rides his rapid horse with jade¹ bit an bridle²，

　　Her handmaid brings her cod-fish in a golden plate.

　　On her painted pavilions， facing red towers，

　　Cornices are pink and green with peach-bloom and with willow³，

　　Canopies⁴ of silk awn her seven-scented chair，

　　And rare fans shade her， home to her nine-flowered curtains.

　　Her lord， with rank and wealth and in the bud of life，

　　Exceeds in munificence⁵ the richest men of old.

　　He favours this girl of lowly birth， he has her taught to dance；

　　And he gives away his coral-trees to almost anyone.

　　The wind of dawn just stirs when his nine soft lights go out，

　　Those nine soft lights like petals⁶ in a flying chain of flowers.

　　Between dances she has barely time for singing over the songs；

　　No sooner is she dressed again than incense⁷ burns before her.

　　Those she knows in town are only the rich and the lavish⁸，

　　And day and night she is visiting the hosts of the gayest mansions⁹.

　　……Who notices the girl from Yue with a face of white jade，

　　Humble¹⁰， poor， alone， by the river， washing silk？