In the cold night, while poring over my book
I forgot the hour of bedtime.
The scent of my gold-embroidered bedcover
has already evaporated.
The fire in the hearth burns no more.
My beautiful mistress, who hitherto has controlled
Her wrath with difficulty, snatches away the lamp,
and asks: Do you know how late it is?
Yuan Tzu-tsai
Pindaro
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