Poems of Yu Xuanji
Travelling with Real Respect to South Tower to See Where a Recent Exam Graduate Inscribed His Name
Cloud peaks fill the eye, releasing spring's clarity.
As clearly, these silver brushstrokes show his hand.
Sad, as my gauze sleeves hide his lines of writing.
I raise my head, useless to praise this successful scholar.
Well, this is sad. The poem obviously follows the last poem which follows the death of this scholar in the poem. I wonder if she has traveled here alone. I think she is very sorry she teased him when he was living. It's hard not to be able to take back what one's knows was ill-done.