| William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. (1878–1962). Anthology of Magazine Verse for 1920. 1920. |
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| To the Dead Favourite of Liu Ch’e |
| | | Djuna Barnes (1892–1982) |
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| THE SOUND of rustling silk is stilled, | |
| With solemn dust the court is filled, | |
| No footfalls echo on the floor; | |
| A thousand leaves stop up her door, | |
| Her little golden drink is spilled. | 5 |
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| Her painted fan no more shall rise | |
| Before her black barbaric eyes— | |
| The scattered tea goes with the leaves. | |
| And simply crossed her yellow sleeves; | |
| And every day a sunset dies. | 10 |
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| Her birds no longer coo and call, | |
| The cherry blossoms fade and fall, | |
| Nor ever does her shadow stir, | |
| But stares forever back at her, | |
| And through her runs no sound at all. | 15 |
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| And bending low, my falling tears | |
| Drop fast against her little ears, | |
| And yet no sound comes back, and I | |
| Who used to play her tenderly | |
Have touched her not a thousand years.
The Dial | 20 |
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