...She turned the tuning-pegs and tested several strings, we could feel what she was feeling, even before she played.

the large strings hummed like rain, the small strings whispered like a secret.

hummed, whispered-and then were intermingled, like a pouring of large and small pearls into a plate of jade.

The flower bottom of Guan Ying's speech is slippery, but it's difficult to flow under the ice in the deep throat spring.

when the ice spring is cold and astringent, the string will freeze, and the freeze will never stop.

into a depth of sorrow and concealment of lament, told even more in silence than they had told in sound.

a silver vase abruptly broke with a gush of water, and out leapt armored horses and weapons that clashed and smote.

and, before she laid her pick down, she ended with one stroke, and all four strings made one sound, as of rending silk.