A Dancer Songs of Bei

With main and might

Dances the ace.

Sun at its height,

He holds his place.

He dances long

With might and main.

Like tiger strong

He holds the rein.

A flute in his left hand,

In his right a plume fine,

Red-faced, he holds command ,

Given a cup of wine.

Hazel above,

Sweet grass below.

Who is not sick for love

Of the dancing Beau?

Who is not sick for love

Of the Western Beau?