Painting the Song of Everlasting Regret

Based on the following ancient poem, paint a picture with the original text attached. 
{argument name="Full Text of Ancient Poems" default="The Han Emperor cherished beauty and longed for a nation that could topple a nation; after ruling for years, he sought her but could not find her. The Yang family had a daughter just coming of age, raised in a secluded chamber, unknown to the world. Born with natural beauty, she could not be abandoned; one day, she was chosen to serve by the emperor's side. A single glance and smile brings forth a hundred charms; the beauties of the six palaces pale in comparison. 
In the chill of spring, she was granted a bath at the Huaqing Pool, where the warm spring water smoothed and cleansed her delicate skin. The maid helped her up, delicate and weak; only then did she first receive the emperor's favor. Her cloud-like hair and flower-like face swayed like golden hairpins; beneath the hibiscus canopy, she spent the warm spring night. The spring night was bitterly short, and she rose high in the sun; from then on, the emperor no longer attended morning court. 
Enjoying pleasure and attending banquets with no leisure, spring follows spring outings, nights are devoted to nights. In the harem, there are three thousand beauties, and three thousand favors are bestowed upon one person. In the golden chamber, adorned and tenderly attended at night, after the banquet in the jade tower, drunk with spring's harmony. Sisters and brothers are all granted fiefs; how lovely, brilliance shines upon the household. Thus, the hearts of parents throughout the land are made to value daughters over sons. 
The lofty palace of Li rises into the azure clouds, immortal music drifts on the wind everywhere. Slow songs and slow dances blend with strings and flutes, the emperor watches all day long, never tired of watching. The war drums of Yuyang shake the earth, shattering the Rainbow Skirt and Feathered Coat melodies. Smoke and dust rise over the ninefold city walls, thousands of chariots and ten thousand riders march southwest. 
The imperial banners sway, advancing and halting, traveling over a hundred li west beyond the capital gates. The six armies do not advance, helpless; the graceful beauty dies before the horse. Flower ornaments lie scattered on the ground, no one to gather them; emerald hairpins, golden sparrows, and jade hairpins on the head. The emperor covers his face, unable to save her; looking back, blood and tears flow together. 
Yellow dust drifts in the bleak wind, clouded paths wind as I ascend Sword Gate. Beneath Mount Emei, few people travel; banners lose their luster, the sunlight is dim. The waters of the Shu River are clear, the mountains of Shu are green; the sovereign's feelings linger day and night. In the temporary palace, seeing the moon brings sorrow; hearing bells in the night rain breaks my heart. 
Heaven and earth spin, the imperial carriage returns; arriving here, I hesitate, unable to leave. Beneath Mawei Slope, in the mud, the jade-like face is nowhere to be seen, only the place where she died in vain. Ruler and ministers gaze at each other, their robes soaked; looking east toward the capital gate, they trust their horses and return. 
Returning, the ponds and gardens remain as before; the lotus of Taiye Lake and the willows of Weiyang Palace. The hibiscus is like a face, the willow like eyebrows; how can one not shed tears before this? On the day when the spring wind brings peach and plum blossoms, and autumn rain falls the leaves of the parasol tree. In the southern chambers of the Western Palace, autumn grass grows thick; fallen leaves cover the steps, red and unswept. 
The disciples of the Pear Garden now have new white hair, the palace attendants of the pepper chamber have grown old. In the evening palace, fireflies drift in quiet thoughts; by the lonely lamp, I burn out my hair but cannot sleep. The slow tolling of bells and drums marks the beginning of the long night; the bright Milky Way signals the coming dawn. The mandarin duck tiles are cold, heavy with frost; who shares the chill of the kingfisher quilt? Year after year, life and death have been parted so long; my soul has never come to enter my dreams. 
A Taoist from Linqiong, a guest from Hongdu, can summon souls with utmost sincerity. Moved by the king's restless longing, he instructed the alchemists to search diligently. He soared through the sky, riding the air like lightning, searching everywhere for it from heaven to earth. He searched the blue heavens above and the yellow springs below, but in both vast places, nothing could be found. 
Suddenly, I heard of a fairy mountain on the sea, the mountain shrouded in ethereal mist. Exquisite pavilions rise amid five-colored clouds, within which many graceful immortals dwell. Among them was one named Taizhen, with snowy skin and flower-like beauty unevenly matched. 
At the western wing of the Golden Palace, I knock on the jade door, then send Xiao Yu to report to Shuangcheng. I hear that the Han emperor's envoy is envoy; within the nine-flower canopy, my dreams are startled. I gather my clothes, push aside my pillow, and rise to pace; pearl curtains and silver screens slowly unfold. My cloud-like hair is half askew from sleep, my flower crown disheveled as I descend the hall. The wind lifts my immortal sleeves, fluttering and rising, just like the dance of rainbow skirts and feathered coats. My jade-like face is lonely, tears staining the balustrade; a branch of pear blossoms in spring is touched by rain. 
With tender gaze, she gazes at the emperor; once parted, voice and visage both fade into the distance. In the Zhaoyang Palace, love is severed; in the Penglai Palace, the sun and moon stretch long. Looking back down toward the mortal world, Chang'an is nowhere to be seen, only dust and mist remain. Only by sending old keepsakes can I express my deep feelings, sending you a jeweled box and a box of gold. I leave a hairpin and a fan; the hairpin splits the gold and divides the jeweled box. If only my heart were as steadfast as gold and jewels, we would meet again in heaven and on earth. 
At parting, I earnestly send you these words, within which are vows known only to our two hearts. On the seventh day of the seventh month, at the Hall of Eternal Life, at midnight when no one is around, whispering in secret. In heaven, may we be birds flying side by side; on earth, may we be intertwined branches. Heaven and earth may last forever, but this sorrow stretches on without end. "}