Flowers and wine,
In a pretty arbour,
Near the Peach bower
listening to the music
of waves and silence
The modest Moon declines
My offer of a taste of
Finely brewed Peach wine
Shyly smiling time to time
from behind her fan,
glides on the lake face
Drink in hand, gazing at her elegance
Bitterness descends upon me,
all of a sudden