Lo-Yang
A beautiful place is the town of Lo-yang:
The big streets are full of spring light.
The lads go driving out with harps in their hands:
The mulberry girls go out to the fields with their baskets.
Golden whips glint at the horses’ flanks.
Gauze sleeves brush the green boughs.
Racing dawn, the carriages come home,
And the girls with their high baskets full of fruit.
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