Over the Mountains of the Moon,
Until I reached the sun
Of my Emperors splendor."
Ming Huang turned to Kao Li-shih. "Her face is like a lotus flower; like floating clouds, her silken robe; like swaying willow-boughs, her grace."
Kao groaned in his heart. "Pity China." For he knew that her surpassing loveliness might better be recorded as "state-destroying charms."
"In the blue night,
Only the moon hears my whispers;
I hang my dreams on the stars,
So they will not be harmed."
She held out her arms. The dancers grouped about her and removed her cape. Her costume now was yellow; she had dared to wear Imperial Yellow that might have been woven of sunbeams. A golden girl, she stood before him. Her talent brilliant as new silk; moth eyebrows; teeth, pearls enhancing her ruby tongue; her cheeks like the blush of spring; her hair blue-black nets to catch the desires of men. Her eyes gleamed. They had impelled a poet to ecstasy:
"Bashfully, swimmingly, pleadingly, scoffingly,
Temptingly, languidly, lovingly, laughingly,
Witchingly, roguishly, playfully, naughtily,
Willfully, waywardly, meltingly, haughtily"
