Classic Poem

There in her moonlit chamber she is dreaming of him still:
How delicate the willows, how languorous the spring!
In the grasses growing thick outside the gate
She hears his horse neigh as she waves goodbye.
By her colored quilt with kingfishers worked in gold
The scented candle has melted into tears.
Among the falling blossoms a nightjar cries —
And behind her green-gauze window the dream dissolves.