Tune: Green Head Ducks
The Taj Mahal
By William He
When morning's rise,
A monument of marbled grace in silent light.
It blushes pink and water sings,
The submerged girl looks,
Well-bred and gentle but reigns.
Questing for perfection,
The Taj likes a sonorous rose,
An exquisite beauty as brave as her Khan.
Jasmines with sweet scent,
Yamuna River reflects the sunset,
Melia azedarach in blossom here.
Whenever the moon glimpses,
The queen in a light oozed scroll,
Turns into virginal bride in cypress and pine.
Hearts always keep,
In the current of time,
In everlasting sleep.
Mourning for his loss,
Shah Jahan is wrapped in his sorrow,
Sighing and denying each gift for him.
Gazing at marbled mausoleum,
He reminisces her parting injunctions,
Wishes to hell when he is imprisoned near.
Tears like a moment's epitaph,
Passion is so deep，
The Ganges in sadness chants.
Memories are so strong,
He unswervingly sticks to,
The promise of previous life.
To a crescendo of sighs and moans,
The sage of love takes his leave.