沉沉更鼓急，渐渐人声绝。

吹灯窗更明，月照一天雪。

A Quatrain by Yuan Mei

(the Fifteenth night of the twelfth Moon)

The watchman drums to tell the hours of night,

The din of beings has finally died down.

All candles out, why windows still so bright?

Because the world wears a moon-snow-lit gown.

Tr. Ziyuzile

(To be revised)