一枝紅艳露凝香,
云雨巫山枉断肠。
借问汉宫谁得似,
可怜飞燕倚新妆。
Theres a perfume stealing moist from a shaft of red blossom,
And a mist, through the heart, from the magical Hill of Wu.
The palaces of China have never known such beauty,
Not even Flying Swallow with all her glittering garments.