Perfume is on the breeze
Dreams—she is fanning me with the flavor of her lips
They met—their eyes met in shining dust
Alas—following you, her thoughts are wandering afar
In this season of a million flowers
Music floats through frosty woods
The hour is passed—my lute is still
In darkened rooms, you can see the green ghost fires
From the flutes of the forest you can hear a thousand voices
The palace ladies of long ago and never were—are dancing
We sailed to the isle of parrots, gazed at the round moon
Listened to the windy pines
Suddenly we heard music—a sad song—coming on the wind
My companions asked her why she wept
Embarrassed—she peeks out to smile
In a dream, we stared at each other
Without a word—and burst into tears
Perfume is on the breeze Dreams—she is fanning me with the flavor of her lips They met—their eyes met in shining dust Alas—following you, her thoughts are wandering afar In this season of a million flowers Music floats through frosty woods The hour is passed—my lute is still In darkened rooms, you can see the green ghost fires From the flutes of the forest you can hear a thousand voices The palace ladies of long ago and never were—are dancing We sailed to the isle of parrots, gazed at the round moon Listened to the windy pines Suddenly we heard music—a sad song—coming on the wind My companions asked her why she wept Embarrassed—she peeks out to smile In a dream, we stared at each other Without a word—and burst into tears
[paraphrased poetry]