(Sung by Women)

Along the riverbank,

There are fifteen clumps of Emeiensis bamboo.

The roots of each grow up right against the next one’s roots,

Just like you and I as we sing to each other!

Our singing is as smooth as oil.

Our songs are as beautiful as the water lilies,

Whose white flowers float upon the river,

Gliding along right up to the reedy bank.

Boy,your singing is fabulous!

Boy,your singing defies description!

Your voice is killing me with its tenderness,

It makes me as tender as a taro shoot!

Even death cannot make me forget you!