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room is bare, the paper windows shiver, Beneath the ill-hung door, the sleet blows free, Yet here, Delight flows forth, a gentle river, To saturate my soul with ecstasy!

I lie upon the heated Kang, quiescent, Lulled by the warmth of lighted straw below, While Li, the golden-tinted adolescent, Blue-clad and silent, passes to and fro.

Li, with his well-cut lips and supple fingers, His crudely lidded eyes, that seem to gaze Back through ten thousand years of thought, where lingers Some misty splendour of the old, old days.

Free from the plait, his loosened sable tresses In silken waves, below the knee, descend. Bringing the opium pipe, he deftly presses The viscous drug upon the needle's end.

Lights it, inserts it in the pipe beside me, Then through my lips the magic vapour streams, And Life and Love, that seldom satisfied me, Meet me with lovely faces in my dreams.

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