Poems of Xue Tao
My soul, conforming to this crescent, dwindles
and flying, now chases a gathering of stars.
Its fine light form, against the darkness, fills again
and, from all this world of men, its circle can be seen.
Now we begin to see why Xue Tao's poetry endures. This is another spontaneous poem for a gathering and its few characters are full of both a short arc of story and imagery of light and darkness. Perhaps she prepared such poems beforehand, if she was the one choosing the topics. You could understand it if she did. Or she might be too proud to do so. Which makes this poem even better. And makes her better, too. Let's suppose she met her opponents on even ground in this way so that we can think the best of her. For her to continue very long in their esteem, this must have been the case.