65白丝行

White Silk: A Ballad In reeling[1] silk one needs length, one does not need white color; for Yue gossamer[2] and Shu brocade[3] use a foot-long ruler marked with golden grains. On an ivory loom a marble hand throws dark red into confusion, myriad[4] plants and a thousand flowers stir their fixed sapphire. Already sad that the plain fabric is dyed to suit the fashion, it is ripped and falls from the singing loom shooting rays of color. A lovely woman, taking great care, irons it flat; when cut and sewn there will disappear all trace of needle and thread. Worn as clothes for spring weather, it dances for the lord, then butterflies come flying, and yellow orioles[5] speak. Falling floss and drifting strands also have feeling, catching sunlight as they go with the breeze, it is right that they float up lightly. Fragrant sweat and light dust sully[6] its complexion; they open the new and pack up the old, to be put away where? Haven’t you seen how hard it is to raise talented men to office?— they fear that they will be tossed away and will have to bear long travels. 单词释义 [1] reel [riːl] n. 卷轴; 卷盘; v. 似乎在不停旋转; 仿佛天旋地转; [2] gossamer [ˈɡɒsəmə(r)] n. 蛛丝; 薄纱; 精细织物; [3] brocade [brəˈkeɪd] n. 织锦缎; (尤指用金银线织出凸纹的) 厚织物; [4] myriad [ˈmɪriəd] adj. 无数的; 多种的，各式各样的; [5] oriole [ˈɔːriəʊl] n. 黄鹂; [6] sully [ˈsʌli] v. 败坏; 有损于; 弄脏; 玷污;