From little, little girls, they have lived in the Golden House.

They are lovely, lovely, in the Purple Hall.

They dress their hair with hill flowers,

And rock-bamboos are embroidered on their dresses of open-work silk gauze.

When they go out from the retired Women's Apartments,

They often follow the Palace chairs.

Their only sorrow, that the songs and wu dances are over,

Changed into the five-coloured clouds and flown away.