拍品专文
The poem may be translated:
The wind blows through the boughs of the pine,
The moon is mirrored calmly in the pond;
And now, the Immortal sprinkles dew on the grass,
Each drop is glowing like a bright pearl.
The wind blows through the boughs of the pine,
As the dragon sings its song.
The wind blows through the boughs of the pine,
The moon is mirrored calmly in the pond;
And now, the Immortal sprinkles dew on the grass,
Each drop is glowing like a bright pearl.
The wind blows through the boughs of the pine,
As the dragon sings its song.