In threads of ivory grace, a dance unfolds, White stockings whisper tales, untold. Adorning legs in purity's embrace, A symphony of elegance, a timeless grace. Soft as moonlight, a celestial gleam, They weave a dream, a poet's theme. Caressing limbs with a gentle kiss, Each step, a sonnet, in moments of bliss. Oh, snowy tendrils, woven in delight, A canvas for beauty, a vision so bright. As morning dews embrace the dawn, White stockings, a poem silently drawn. In every stride, a ballet of purity, A canvas of innocence, a visual surety. They tell a story, silent and sweet, Of elegance and grace, where two worlds meet. So, here's to the white stockings fair, A symbol of charm, beyond compare. In the language of threads, they speak, A timeless ode to the exquisite, the unique.
当白云缠绕在美玉腿， 素丝舞动，如诗如画。 雪白纱，轻披曼妙身， 翩翩起舞，梦中姿。 如羽扇翩翩飘，晨曦下， 白丝细腻，犹如清露滑。 纤纤玉足，舞出幽梦， 悠悠弹奏，岁月乐章。 雪影荡漾，步履间留香， 轻纱飘扬，似梦如霜。 白丝纷飞，翩若流云， 唤起岁月，绚烂的梦境。 雪白长袜，华美绽放， 缀满诗篇，心灵的画。 悠扬旋律，缠绵耳畔， 赞美白丝，恍若仙乐。
