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.