Evening falls on palace walls shaded by flowering trees, with cry of birds flying past on their way to roost. The stars quiver as they look down on the myriad doors of the palace, and the moon`s light increases as she moves into the ninefold sky. Unable to sleep, I seem to hear the sound of the bronze-clad doors opening for the audience, or imagine the sound of bridle-bells bourne upon the wind. Having a sealed memorial to submit at tomorrow`s levee, I make frequent inquiries about the progress of the night. Tu Fu (tr. Hawkes)SourceThe script ran 0 seconds.
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