The Orchid-Like Fingers Poem by Wang Qian

Dance,
Dance,
We throw the sleeves of shine
As long as the meditating clouds.
Wild,
Wild,
Slipping into the bushes of happiness.

The fingers, the orchids
Tapping the air of longing
Beating each to each.
With the silky steps of sigh
The willow waists swaying ahead.

Turning around, the orchids quiver
In feast of silence.
Another absence losing breath
Is a tidal climax.

Cheering up, the youth become bunches
Again
Leading the grace without a stain.

The orchid fingers and fluid traces,
The feet in glee shades and green
Of swift intimacy
Twittering to wake up the Spring.