Think of the Girls of Cao Cao, Still on Their Way to the Tower to Sing

The way Li He thought
Of them, the eye drifts
From a bowl of wine
To a view of mists,

But if you were this,
Forced to feed a corpse,
Sing to it, bring gifts,
Your life a stone horse

As you aged, which verse
Would bring you to tears,
You, girl in the hearse
Of god, all your years?