The narrow streets cut into the wide highway at Choan,
Dark oxen, white horses, drag on the seven coaches
The coaches are perfumed wood,
The jewelled chair is held up at the crossway,
Before the royal lodge a glitter of golden saddles,
awaiting the princess,
They eddy before the gate of the barons.
The canopy embroidered with dragons drinks in
and casts back the sun.
Evening comes. The trappings are bordered with mist.
The hundred cords of mist are spread through
and double the trees,
Night birds, and night women, spread out their sounds
through the gardens.
Birds with flowery wing, hovering butterflies
crowd over the thousand gates,
Trees that glitter like jade, terraces tinged with silver,
The seed of a myriad hues,
A network of arbours and passages and covered ways,
Double towers, winged roofs, border the network of ways:
A place of felicitous meeting.
Riu's house stands out on the sky, with glitter of colour
As Butei of Kan had made the high golden lotus to gather his dews,
Before it another house which I do not know:
How shall we know all the friends whom we meet on strange roadways ?
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