Poems of Yu Xuanji
Inscribed on a Fog-Enshrouded Pavilion
I've put spring flowers and autumn moons in my poems.
In bright day and clear night, I am exiled from Heaven.
Fresh scrolls, beaded curtains, these are not yet left behind.
Difficult to turn in my bed to face the mountains and sleep.
This is a second poem, perhaps written later than the first one which indicates that Yu Xuanji knows that she is dying. Here it is becoming difficult for her to move as she lies in bed. But she hasn't given up yet, has she? She is out in bad weather, in a pavillion, copying this onto a wall. One would think that these two poems come in the last year of her life.