Drunk with freshdew, your trill will flow
From 'mid thesparse parasol trees.
Rising high, faryour voice will go,
Not on the wingsof autumn breeze.
You shed aflickering light;
Your wings areweak in flight.
Afraid to beunknown,
At night you gleamalone.
In early autumnI'm sad to see falling leaves;
They're drearylike a roamer's heart that their fall grieves.
They twist andtwirl as if struggling against the breeze;
I seem to hearthem cry, "We will not leave our trees."
Drinking wine allday long,
I won't keep mymind sane.
Seeing the drunkenthrong,
Should I soberremain?
A field View
At dusk witheastern shore in view
I loiter, butwhere can I go?
Tree on treetinted with autumn hue;
Hill on hillsteeped in sunset glow.
The shepherddrives the herd homebound;
The hunter's steedcomes back with game.
There's noacquaintance all around;
I sing of hermitsand feel shame.
Long, Long ThePathway To Cold Hill
Long, long thepathway to Cold Hill;
Drear, drear thewaterside so chill.
Chirp, chirp, Ioften hear the bird;
Mute, mute, nobodysays a word.
Gust by gust windscaress my face;
Flake on flakesnow covers all trace.
From day to daythe sun won't shine;
From year to yearno spring is mine.
By riversidetowers Prince Teng's Pavilion proud,
But gone are cabswith ringing bells and stirring strains.
At dawn itspainted beams bar the south-flying cloud;
At dusk itscurtains furled face western mountains' rains.
Free clouds castshadows in the pool from day to day;
The world andseasons change beneath the changing sky.
Where is theprince who in this pavilion did stay?
Beyond thebalustrade the silent river rolls by.
Farewell ToPrefect Du
You'll leave thetown walled far and wide
For mist-veiledland by riverside.
I feel on partingsad and drear,
For both of us arestrangers here.
If you've a friendwho knows your heart,
Distance can'tkeep you two apart.
At crossroadswhere we bid adieu,
Do not shed tearsas women do!
I Would RatherFight
The beacon fireshines o'er the capital,
My agitated mindcan't be calmed down.
By royal roder weleave palace hall;
Our armouredsteeds besiege the Dragon Town.
snow darkenspictures sewn on banners red;
In howling windsare mingled our drumbeats.
I'd rather fightat a hundred men's head
Than pore o'er bookswithout performing feats.
The Cicada HeardIn Prison
In autumn thecicada sings;
A prisoner, I'mlost in thought.
I cannot bear tosee its dark wings,
Which to my headwhite hair have brought.
Heavy with dew, itcannot fly;
Drowned in thewind, its song's not heard.
No one believestis spirit high.
Who could expressmy grief in word?
Southbound, I PartFrom My Younger Brother
On and on flowsthe River Long;
Deep and deepgrows our grief to part.
The flowers fallmute all along
As if they toowere sad at heart.
Crossing The RiverHan
Exhiled, I longedfor news none bring,
From the longwinter to late spring.
Now nearing home,timid I grow,
I dare not askwhat I would know.
The Garrison AtYellow Dragon Town
Stationed atYellow Dragon Town, the men
Have never beenrelieved year after year.
At home theirwives are watching the moon, when
They're staying inthe camp on the frontier.
Their wives arelonging for them when spring comes
And can't forgettheir love on parting night.
Oh, who will leadour troops with flags and drums
To put the foe atDragon Town to flight!
The slender treeis dressed in emerald all about,
A thousandbranches droop like fringes made of jade.
But do you know bywhom these slim leaves are cut out?
The wind of earlyspring is sharp as scissor blade.
Old, I return tothe homeland I left while young,
Thinner has grownmy hair, though I speak the same tongue.
My children, whomI meet, do not know who am I.
"Where areyou from, dear sir?" they ask with beaming eye.
On Climbing TheTower At Youzhou
Where are thegreat men of the past?
Where are those offuture years?
The sky and earthforever last;
Here and now Ialone shed tears.
This sword thatcost me dear,
To none would Iconfide.
Now you are toleave here,
Let it go by yourside.
Trees delight inspring day;
The pine loveswintry air.
What more need Ito say?
Don't add to yourgrey hair!
My DelayedDeparture For Home
My heart outrunsthe moon and sun;
It makes thejourney not begun.
The autumn windwon't wait for me;
It arrives therewhere I would be.
Looking At TheMoon And Longing For One Far Away
Over the sea themoon shines bright;
We gaze at it far,far apart.
You might complainhow long is night,
And I would rise,lovesick at heart.
I blow out candle;still there's light.
I don my coat: I'mmoist with dew.
I can't give youthese moobeams white
But go to bed todream of you.
Since My Lord FromMe Parted
Since my lord fromme parted,
I've left unusedmy loom.
The moon wanes,brokenhearted,
To see my growinggloom.
A Moonlit Night OnThe Spring River
In spring theriver rises as high as the sea,
And with theriver's rise the moon uprises bright.
She follows therolling waves for ten thousand li,
And where theriver flows, there overflows her light.
The river windsaround the fragrant islet where
The bloomingflowers in her light all look like snow.
You cannot tellher beams from hoar frost in the air,
Nor from whitesand upon Farewell Beach below.
No dust hasstained the water blending with the skies;
A lonely wheellikemoon shines brilliant far and wide.
Who by theriverside first saw the moon arise?
When did the moonfirst see a man by riverside?
Ah, generationshave come and past away;
From year to yearthe moons look alike, old and new.
We do not knowtonight for whom she sheds her ray,
But hear the riversay to its water adieu.
Away, away issailing a single cloud white;
On Farewell Beachpine away maples green.
Where is thewanderer sailing his boat tonight?
Who, pining away,on the moonlit rails would learn?
Alas! The moon islingering over the tower;
It should haveseen the dressing table of the fair.
She rolls thecurtain up and light comes in her bower;
She washes butcan't wash away the moonbeams there.
She sees the moon,but her beloved is out of sight;
She'd follow it toshine on her beloved one's face.
Butmessage-bearing swans can't fly out of moonlight,
Nor canletter-sending fish leap out of their place.
Last night hedreamed that falling flowers would not stay.
Alas! He can't gohome, although half spring has gone.
The running waterbearing spring will pass away;
The moon decliningover the pool will sink anon.
The moon decliningsinks into a heavy mist;
It's a long waybetween southern rivers and eastern seas.
How many can gohome by moonlight who are missed?
The sinking moonsheds yearning o'er riverside trees.
Passing By TheNorthern Mountains
My boat goes bythe green, green mountainside;
It glides overblue, blue water with ease.
The banks arepushed far back at full tide;
A single sailseems hanging in the breeze.
The sun emergesere night has passed away,
And springintrudes to ring out the old year.
Who'll send myletter home without delay?
I see nonorthward-flying wild geese here.*
*Wild geese werebelieved to be message-bearing birds.
Starting For TheFront
From cups of jadethat glow with wine of grapes at night,
Drinking to pipasongs, we are summoned to fight.
Don't laugh if welie drunk upon the battleground!
How many warriorsever came back safe and sound?
On The Heron Tower
The sun beyond themountains glows;
The Yellow Riverseawards flows.
You can enjoy agrander sight
By climbing to agreater height.
Out Of The GreatWall
The yellow sandrises as high as white cloud;
The lonely town islost amid the mountains proud.
Why should theMongol flute complain no willows grow?
Beyond the JadeGate vernal wind will never blow!
Longing For XinThe Elder In The Southern Pavilion On A Summer Day
Suddenly daylightfades o'er western hill;
Gradually climbsthe moon o'er eastern pool.
With windows open,in bed I lie still;
With hairunloosed, I enjoy the cool.
The breeze bringsfragrance from lotus fair;
Dewdrops drip offbamboos with a splash clear.
I'd like to takemy lute and play an air,
But I can find noconnoisseur to hear.
So I long for you,my friend so dear,
That you may in mymidnight dream appear!
Parting From WangWei
Lonely, lonely Iwait in vain, alas!
Day in, day out, Icome back sad at heart.
I'd like to seekmy homeland's fragrant grass,
But I am grievedwith my old friend to part.
Those in highplaces will not lend a hand;
In the human worldgood coonoisseurs are few.
I'll close mygarden gate in native land
And live insolitude with nothing in view.
Visiting An OldFriend
My friend'sprepared a chicken and plain food
And he's invitedme to his cottage hall.
The village issurrounded by green wood;
Blue mountainsslant beyond the city wall
The window opened,we face field and ground;
Wine cup in hand,we talk of crops of grain.
"When theFestival of Double Ninth comes round,
I'll come for yourchrysanthemums again."
This morn ofspring in bed I'm lying,
Not to awake tillbirds are crying.
After one night ofwind and showers,
How many are thefallen flowers!
Mooring On TheRiver At Jiande
My boat is mooredby mist-veiled rivershore;
I'm grieved to seethe setting sun no more.
On boundless plainclouds hang atop the tree;
In water clear themoon seems near to me.
An Old War Song
We climb the hillby day to watch for beacon fires
And water horsesby riverside when day expires.
We strike the gongin sand-darkened land where wind blows
And hear the pipatell the Princess* secret woes.
There is no townfor miles and miles but tents in a row;
Beyond the desertthere's nothing but rain and snow.
The wild geesehonk from night to night, that's all we hear;
We see but Tatarsoldiers shedding tear on tear.
'Tis said wecannot go back through the Jade-Gate Pass,
We'd risk ourlives to follow war chariots, alas!
The dead areburried in the desert year on year,
Only to bring backgrapes from over the frontier.
* The Princessrefers to the beautiful Lady Wang Zhao-jun,
who was marriedupon royal order to the Khan of the Tatar tribe in 33 B.C.
Clouds on frontierhave darkened mountains clad in snow;
The town with Gateof Jade stands far away, forlorn.
We will not leavethe desert till we beat the foe,
Although in warour golden armour be outworn.
The wind and sandhave in the desert dimmed sunlight,
With red flagshalf unfurled through gate of camp we go.
North of the RiverTao, after nocturnal fight,
Our vanguardscapture the chieftain of the foe.
On The Frontier
The moon o'ermountain pass is still the moon of yore;
The men who wentto guard the pass are now no more.
Were FlyingGeneral* still in Dragon City here,
No Tatar steedwould dare to cross the north frontier.
* Flying GeneralLi Guang (died in A.D. 125) of the Han Dynasty was much dreaded by the Tatartribesmen.
A Court Lady Wholost The Emperor's Favour
She brings herbroom at dawn to dust the golden halls
And strolls aboutwith round fan within the palace walls.
Her rosy colourenvies wintry crow's black one,
Oft bathed infavourable light of royal sun.
Lament Of A FairLady In The West Palace
The lotus bloomfeels shy beside the lady fair;
The breeze acrossthe lake takes fragrance from her hair.
At autumn fancannot conceal that she is bored,
In vain beneaththe moon she's waiting for her lord.
Sorrow Of A YoungBride In Her Boudoir
Nothing in herboudoir brings sorrow to the bride;
She mounts thetower, gaily dressed, on a spring day.
Suddenly seeingwillows green by the roadside,
Oh, she regretsher lord seeking fame far away!
Dismounted, Idrink with you
And ask whatyou've in view.
"I cannothave my will,
So I'll go toSouth Hill.
Ask me no more, begone!
Let clouds drifton and on."
Rural Scene ByRiver Wei
A village lit byslanting ray,
The cattle trailon homeward way.
And old man forthe herd boy waits,
Leaning on staffby wicket gates.
The pheasant callsin field of wheat,
And silkwormssleep in their retreat.
Two ploughmenmeet, shouldering hoe;
They chatter,unwilling to go.
For this unhurriedlife I long
And hum the old"Homegoing Song."
Louder than gustywinds twang horn-backed bows,
Hunting outsidethe town the genral goes.
Keener o'er witheredgrass is falcon's eye;
Lighter on meltedsnow the steed trots by.
In a twinkling NewFertile Market passed,
He comes back tothe Willow Camp so fast.
He looks backwhere he shot down vultures proud,
For miles andmiles there spreads a sea of cloud.
A View Of The HanRiver
Three southernrivers rolling by,
Nine tributariesmeeting here.
Their water flowsfrom earth to sky;
Hills now appear,now disappear.
Towns seem tofloat on rivershore;
With waveshorizons rise and fall.
Such scenery as weadore
Would make usdrink and dunken all.
The Deer Enclosure
In pathless hillsno man's in sight,
But I still hearechoing sound.
In gloomy forestpeeps no light,
But sunbeams slanton mossy ground.
The Dale OfSinging Birds
I hear osmanthusblooms fall unenjoyed;
When night comes,hills dissolve into the void.
The rising moonarouses birds to sing,
Their fitfultwitters fill the dale with spring.
Parting Among TheHills
I watch you leavethe hills, compeer;
At dusk I close mywicket door.
When grass turnsgreen in spring next years,
Will you returnwith spring once more?
Red berries growin southern land.
How many load inspring the trees!
Gather them tillfull is your hand;
They would revivefond memories.
Blue Fields InMist Or Rain
O'er pebbles greya blue stream glides;
Red leaves arestrewn on jade hillsides.
Along the path itrains unseen;
My gown growsmoist with drizzling green.
Thinking Of MyBrothers On Mountain-climbing Day
Alone, a lonelystranger in a foreign land,
I pine forkinsfolk doubly on a holiday.
I know my brotherswould, with dogwood spray* in hand,
Climb the mountainand think of me so far away.
* A dogwood spraycarried on mountain-climbing day,
that is, the ninthday of the ninth lunar month,
was supposed todrive away evil spirits.
A Farewell Song
The Little town isquiet after morning rain;
No dust has dulledthe tavern willows fresh and green.
I would ask you todrink a cup of wine again;
West of the SunnyPass no more friends will be seen.
Farewell To Spring
From day to dayman will grow old,
So drink the cupof wine you hold!
Don't grieve o'erflowers falling here;
They'll come withspring from year to year.
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