chē lín lín， mǎ xiāo xiāo， xíng rén gōng jiàn gè zài yāo。
　　 yé niàn qī zǐ zǒu xiāng sòng， chén 'āi bù jiàn xián yáng qiáo。
　　 qiān yī dùn zú lán dào kū， kū shēng zhí shàng gān yún xiāo！
　　 dào bàng guò zhě wèn xíng rén， xíng rén dàn yún diǎn xíng pín。
　　 huò cóng shí wǔ běi fáng hé， biàn zhì sì shí xī yíng tián。
　　 qù shí lǐ zhèng yǔ guǒ tóu， guī lái tóu bái hái shù biān！
　　 biān tíng liúxiě chéng hǎi shuǐ， wǔ huáng kāi biān yì wèi yǐ。
　　 jūn bù wén， hàn jiā shān dōng 'èr bǎi zhōu， qiān cūn wàn luò shēng jīng qǐ！
　　 zòng yòu jiàn fù bǎ chú lí， hé shēng lǒng mǔ wú dōng xī。
　　 kuàng fù qín bīng nài kǔ zhàn， bèi qū bù yì quǎn yǔ jī。
　　 zhǎngzhě suī yòu wèn， yì fū gǎn shēn hèn？
　　 qiě rú jīn nián dōng， wèi xiū guān xī zú。
　　 xiàn guān jí suǒ zū， zū shuì cóng hé chū？
　　 xìn zhī shēng nán 'è， fǎn shì shēng nǚ hǎo。
　　 shēng nǚ yóu dé jià bǐ lín， shēng nán máimò suí bǎi cǎo！
　　 jūn bù jiàn， qīng hǎi tóu， gǔ lái bái gǔ wú rén shōu。
　　 xīn guǐ fán yuān jiù guǐ kū， tiān yīn yǔ shī shēng jiū jiū！

　　The war-chariots rattle,
　　The war-horses whinny.
　　Each man of you has a bow and a quiver at his belt.
　　Father, mother, son, wife, stare at you going,
　　Till dust shall have buried the bridge beyond Changan.
　　They run with you, crying, they tug at your sleeves,
　　And the sound of their sorrow goes up to the clouds;
　　And every time a bystander asks you a question,
　　You can only say to him that you have to go.
　　...We remember others at fifteen sent north to guard the river
　　And at forty sent west to cultivate the campfarms.
　　The mayor wound their turbans for them when they started out.
　　With their turbaned hair white now, they are still at the border,
　　At the border where the blood of men spills like the sea –
　　And still the heart of Emperor Wu is beating for war.
　　...Do you know that, east of China's mountains, in two hundred districts
　　And in thousands of villages, nothing grows but weeds,
　　And though strong women have bent to the ploughing,
　　East and west the furrows all are broken down?
　　...Men of China are able to face the stiffest battle,
　　But their officers drive them like chickens and dogs.
　　Whatever is asked of them,
　　Dare they complain?
　　For example, this winter
　　Held west of the gate,
　　Challenged for taxes,
　　How could they pay?
　　...We have learned that to have a son is bad luck-
　　It is very much better to have a daughter
　　Who can marry and live in the house of a neighbour,
　　While under the sod we bury our boys.
　　...Go to the Blue Sea, look along the shore
　　At all the old white bones forsaken –
　　New ghosts are wailing there now with the old,
　　Loudest in the dark sky of a stormy day.

　　míng zhēng jīn sù zhù， sù shǒu yù fáng qián。
　　 yù dé zhōu láng gù， shí shí wù fú xián。

　　Her hands of white jade by a window of snow
　　Are glimmering on a golden-fretted harp –
　　And to draw the quick eye of Chou Yu,
　　She touches a wrong note now and then.

yuán hé shí nián， yú zuǒ qiān jiǔ jiāng jùn sī mǎ。 míng nián qiū， sòng kè pén pǔ kǒu。 wén zhōu zhōng yè tánpípá zhě， tīng qí yīn， zhèng zhèng rán yòu jīng dū shēng。 wèn qí rén， běn cháng 'ān chàng nǚ。 cháng xué pí pá yú mù、 cáo 'èr shàn cái， niánzhǎng sè shuāi， wěi shēn wéi jiǎ rén fù。 suì mìng jiǔ shǐ kuài dàn shùqǔ， qǔbà mǐn rán。 zì xù shàoxiǎo shí huān lè shì， jīn piào lún qiáo cuì， zhuǎn xǐ yú jiāng hú jiān。 yú chū guān 'èr nián， tián rán zì 'ān， gǎn sī rén yán， shì xī shǐ jué yòu qiān zhé yì。 yīn wéi cháng jù， gē yǐ zèng zhī， fán liù bǎi yī shí 'èr yán， mìng yuē《 pí pá xíng》。　　hǎixún yáng jiāng tóu yè sòng kè， fēng yè dí huā qiū sè sè。
　　 zhù rén xià mǎ kè zài chuán， jǔ jiǔ yù yǐn wú guǎn xián。
　　 zuì bù chéng huān cǎn jiāng bié， bié shí máng máng jiāng jìn yuè。
　　 hū wén shuǐ shàng pí pá shēng， zhù rén wàng guī kè bù fā。
　　 xún shēng 'àn wèn dàn zhě shuí， pí pá shēng tíng yù yǔ chí。
　　 yí chuán xiāng jìn yāo xiāng jiàn， tiān jiǔ huí dēng zhòng kāi yàn。
　　 qiān hū wàn huàn shǐ chū lái， yóu bào pí pá bàn zhē miàn。
　　 zhuànzhóu bō xián sān liǎng shēng， wèi chéng qǔdiào xiān yòu qíng。
　　 xián xián yǎn yì shēng shēng sī， sì sù píng shēng bù dé yì。
　　 dī méi xìn shǒu xù xù dàn， shuō jìn xīn zhōng wú xiàn shì。
　　 qīng lǒng màn niǎn mǒ fù tiǎo， chū wéi ní cháng hòu liù yāo。
　　 dà xián cáo cáo rú jí yǔ， xiǎo xián qièqiè rú sī yǔ。
　　 cáo cáo qièqiè cuò zá dàn， dà zhū xiǎo zhū luò yù pán。
　　 jiān guān yīng yǔ huā dǐ huá， yōu yān quán liú bīng xià nán。 bīng quán lěng sè xián yí jué， yí jué bù tōng shēng zàn xiē。
　　 bié yòu yōu chóu 'àn hèn shēng， cǐ shí wú shēng shèng yòu shēng。 yín píng zhà pò shuǐ jiāng bèng， tiě qí tū chū dāo qiāng míng。
　　 qǔzhōng shōu bō dāng xīn huà， sì xián yī shēng rú liè bó。 dōng zhōu xī fǎng qiǎo wú yán， wéi jiàn jiāng xīn qiū yuè bái。
　　
　　 chén yín fàng bō chā xián zhōng， zhěng dùn yī cháng qǐ liǎn róng。 zì yán běn shì jīng chéng nǚ， jiā zài hámá líng xià zhù。
　　 shí sān xué dé pí pá chéng， míng shǔ jiào fāng dì yī bù。 qǔbà céng jiào shàn cái fú， zhuāng chéng měi bèi qiū niàn dù。
　　 wǔ líng niánshào zhēng chán tóu， yī qū hóng xiāo bù zhī shù。 diàn tóu yún bì jī jié suì， xuè sè luó qún fān jiǔ wū。
　　 jīn nián huān xiào fù míng nián， qiū yuè chūn fēng děng xián dù。 dì zǒu cóng jūn 'ā yí sǐ， mù qù cháo lái yán sè gù。
　　 mén qián lěng luò 'ān mǎ xī， lǎo dà jià zuò shāng rén fù。 shāng rén zhòng lì qīng bié lí， qián yuè fú liáng mǎi chá qù。
　　 qù lái jiāng kǒu shǒu kōng chuán， rào chuán yuè míng jiāng shuǐ hán。 yè shēn hū mèng shàonián shì， mèng tí zhuāng lèi hóng lán gān。
　　 wǒ wén pí pá yǐ tàn xī， yòu wén cǐ yǔ zhòng jī jī。 tóng shì tiān yá lún luò rén， xiāng féng hé bì céng xiāng shí。
　　 wǒ cóng qù nián cí dì jīng， zhé jū wò bìng hǎixún yáng chéng。 hǎixún yáng dì pì wú yīnyuè， zhōng suì bù wén sī zhú shēng。
　　 zhù jìn pén jiāng dì dī shī， huáng lú kǔ zhú rào zhái shēng。 qí jiān dàn mù wén hé wù， dù juān tí xuè yuán 'āi míng。
　　 chūn jiāng huā cháo qiū yuè yè， wǎng wǎng qǔ jiǔ hái dú qīng。 qǐ wú shān gē yǔ cūn dí， ǒu yǎ cháo zǎ nán wéi tīng。
　　 jīn yè wén jūn pí pá yǔ， rú tīng xiānyuè 'ěr zàn míng。 mò cí gèng zuò dànyīqǔ， wéi jūn fān zuò pí pá xíng。
　　 gǎn wǒ cǐ yán liáng jiǔ lì， què zuò cù xián xián zhuǎn jí。 qī qī bù sì xiàng qián shēng， mǎn zuò zhòng wén jiē yǎn qì。
　　 zuò zhōng qì xià shuí zuì duō？ jiāng zhōu sī mǎ qīng shān shī。

　　I was bidding a guest farewell, at night on the Xunyang River,
　　Where maple-leaves and full-grown rushes rustled in the autumn.
　　I, the host, had dismounted, my guest had boarded his boat,
　　And we raised our cups and wished to drink-but, alas, there was no music.
　　For all we had drunk we felt no joy and were parting from each other,
　　When the river widened mysteriously toward the full moon –
　　We had heard a sudden sound, a guitar across the water.
　　Host forgot to turn back home, and guest to go his way.
　　We followed where the melody led and asked the player's name.
　　The sound broke off...then reluctantly she answered.
　　We moved our boat near hers, invited her to join us,
　　Summoned more wine and lanterns to recommence our banquet.
　　Yet we called and urged a thousand times before she started toward us,
　　Still hiding half her face from us behind her guitar.
　　...She turned the tuning-pegs and tested several strings;
　　We could feel what she was feeling, even before she played:
　　Each string a meditation, each note a deep thought,
　　As if she were telling us the ache of her whole life.
　　She knit her brows, flexed her fingers, then began her music,
　　Little by little letting her heart share everything with ours.
　　She brushed the strings, twisted them slow, swept them, plucked them –
　　First the air of The Rainbow Skirt, then The Six Little Ones.
　　The large strings hummed like rain,
　　The small strings whispered like a secret,
　　Hummed, whispered-and then were intermingled
　　Like a pouring of large and small pearls into a plate of jade.
　　We heard an oriole, liquid, hidden among flowers.
　　We heard a brook bitterly sob along a bank of sand...
　　By the checking of its cold touch, the very string seemed broken
　　As though it could not pass; and the notes, dying away
　　Into a depth of sorrow and concealment of lament,
　　Told even more in silence than they had told in sound....
　　A silver vase abruptly broke with a gush of water,
　　And out leapt armored horses and weapons that clashed and smote –
　　And, before she laid her pick down, she ended with one stroke,
　　And all four strings made one sound, as of rending silk
　　There was quiet in the east boat and quiet in the west,
　　And we saw the white autumnal moon enter the river's heart.
　　...When she had slowly placed the pick back among the strings,
　　She rose and smoothed her clothing and, formal, courteous,
　　Told us how she had spent her girlhood at the capital,
　　Living in her parents' house under the Mount of Toads,
　　And had mastered the guitar at the age of thirteen,
　　With her name recorded first in the class-roll of musicians,
　　Her art the admiration even of experts,
　　Her beauty the envy of all the leading dancers,
　　How noble youths of Wuling had lavishly competed
　　And numberless red rolls of silk been given for one song,
　　And silver combs with shell inlay been snapped by her rhythms,
　　And skirts the colour of blood been spoiled with stains of wine....
　　Season after season, joy had followed joy,
　　Autumn moons and spring winds had passed without her heeding,
　　Till first her brother left for the war, and then her aunt died,
　　And evenings went and evenings came, and her beauty faded –
　　With ever fewer chariots and horses at her door;
　　So that finally she gave herself as wife to a merchant
　　Who, prizing money first, careless how he left her,
　　Had gone, a month before, to Fuliang to buy tea.
　　And she had been tending an empty boat at the river's mouth,
　　No company but the bright moon and the cold water.
　　And sometimes in the deep of night she would dream of her triumphs
　　And be wakened from her dreams by the scalding of her tears.
　　Her very first guitar-note had started me sighing;
　　Now, having heard her story, I was sadder still.
　　"We are both unhappy – to the sky's end.
　　We meet. We understand. What does acquaintance matter?
　　I came, a year ago, away from the capital
　　And am now a sick exile here in Jiujiang –
　　And so remote is Jiujiang that I have heard no music,
　　Neither string nor bamboo, for a whole year.
　　My quarters, near the River Town, are low and damp,
　　With bitter reeds and yellowed rushes all about the house.
　　And what is to be heard here, morning and evening? –
　　The bleeding cry of cuckoos, the whimpering of apes.
　　On flowery spring mornings and moonlit autumn nights
　　I have often taken wine up and drunk it all alone,
　　Of course there are the mountain songs and the village pipes,
　　But they are crude and-strident, and grate on my ears.
　　And tonight, when I heard you playing your guitar,
　　I felt as if my hearing were bright with fairymusic.
　　Do not leave us. Come, sit down. Play for us again.
　　And I will write a long song concerning a guitar."
　　...Moved by what I said, she stood there for a moment,
　　Then sat again to her strings-and they sounded even sadder,
　　Although the tunes were different from those she had played before....
　　The feasters, all listening, covered their faces.
　　But who of them all was crying the most?
　　This Jiujiang official. My blue sleeve was wet.

　　hàn huáng zhòng sè sī qīng guó， yù yǔ duō nián qiú bù dé。
　　 yáng jiā yòu nǚ chū cháng chéng， yǎng zài shēn guī rén wèi shí。
　　 tiān shēng lì zhì nán zì qì， yīzhāo xuǎn zài jūn wáng cè。
　　 huí móu yī xiào bǎi mèi shēng， liù gōng fěn dài wú yán sè。
　　 chūn hán cì yù huá qīng chí， wēn quán shuǐ huá xǐ níng zhī。
　　 shì 'ér fú qǐ jiāo wú lì， shǐ shì xīn chéng 'ēn zé shí。
　　 yún bìn huā yán jīn bù yáo， fú róng zhàng nuǎn dù chūn xiāo。
　　 chūn xiāo kǔ duǎn rì gāo qǐ， cóng cǐ jūn wáng bù zǎo cháo。
　　 chéng huān shì yàn wú xián xiá， chūn cóng chūn yóu yè zhuān yè。
　　 hòu gōng jiā lì sān qiān rén， sān qiān chǒng 'ài zài yī shēn。
　　 jīn wū zhuāng chéng jiāo shì yè， yù lóu yàn bà zuì hé chūn。
　　 zǐ mèi dì xiōng jiē liè tǔ， kě lián guāng cǎi shēng mén hù。
　　 suì lìng tiān xià fù mǔ xīn， bù zhòng shēng nán chóngshēng nǚ。
　　
　　 lí gōng gāo chù rù qīng yún， xiān lè fēng piāo chù chù wén。
　　 huǎn gē màn wǔ níng sī zhú， jìn rì jūn wáng kàn bù zú。
　　 yú yáng pí gǔ dòng dì lái， jīng pò ní cháng yǔ yī qū。
　　 jiǔchóng chéng jué yān chén shēng， qiānshèng wàn qí xī nán xíng。
　　 cuì huá yáo yáo xíng fù zhǐ， xī chū dū mén bǎi yú lǐ。 liù jūn bù fā wú nài hé， wǎn zhuǎn 'é méi mǎ qián sǐ。
　　 huā diàn wěi dì wú rén shōu， cuì qiáo jīn què yù sāo tóu。 jūn wáng yǎn miàn jiù bù dé， huí kàn xuè lèi xiānghè liú。
　　 huáng 'āi sǎnmàn fēng xiāo suǒ， yún zhàn yíng yū dēng jiàn gé。 é méi shān xià shǎo rén xíng， jīng qí wú guāng rì sè bó。
　　 shǔ jiāng shuǐ bì shǔ shān qīng， shèng zhù cháo cháo mù mù qíng。 xíng gōng jiàn yuè shāng xīn sè， yè yǔ wén líng cháng duàn shēng。
　　 tiān xuán rì zhuǎn huí lóng yù， dào cǐ chóu chú bù néng qù。 mǎ wéi pō xià ní tǔ zhōng， bù jiàn yù yán kōng sǐ chù。
　　 jūn chén xiāng gù jìn zhān yī， dōng wàng dū mén xìn mǎ guī。 guī lái chí yuàn jiē yǐ jiù， tài yè fú róng wèi yāng liǔ。
　　 fú róng rú miàn liǔ rú méi， duì cǐ rú hé bù lèi chuí。 chūn fēng táo lǐ huā kāi yè， qiū yǔ wú tóng yè luò shí。
　　 xī gōng nán nèi duō qiū cǎo， luò yè mǎn jiē hóng bù sǎo。 lí yuán dì zǐ báifà xīn， jiāo fáng 'ā jiān qīng 'é lǎo。
　　 xī diàn yíng fēi sī qiǎo rán， gū dēng tiǎo jìn wèi chéng mián。 chí chí zhōng gǔ chū cháng yè， gěng gěng xīng hé yù shǔ tiān。
　　 yuān yāng wǎ lěng shuāng huá zhòng， fěi cuì qīn hán shuí yǔ gòng。 yōu yōu shēng sǐ bié jīng nián， hún bó bù céng lái rù mèng。
　　 lín qióng dào shì hóng dū kè， néng yǐ jīng chéng zhì hún bó。 wéi gǎn jūn wáng zhǎn zhuǎn sī， suì jiào fāng shì yīn qín mì。
　　 pái kōng yù qì bēn rú diàn， shēng tiān rù dì qiú zhī biàn。 shàng qióng bì luò xià huáng quán， liǎng chù máng máng jiē bù jiàn。
　　 hū wén hǎi shàng yòu xiān shān， shān zài xū wú piǎo miǎo jiān。 lóu gé líng lóng wǔ yún qǐ， qí zhōng chuò yuē duō xiān zǐ。
　　 zhōng yòu yī rén zì tài zhēn， xuě fū huā mào cēncī shì。 jīn jué xī xiāng kòu yù jiōng， zhuǎn jiào xiǎo yù bào shuāng chéng。
　　 wén dào hàn jiā tiān zǐ shǐ， jiǔ huá zhàng lǐ mèng hún jīng。 lǎn yī tuī zhěn qǐ pái huí， zhū bó yín píng lǐ yí kāi。
　　 yún bìn bàn piān xīn shuì jué， huā guān bù zhěng xià táng lái。 fēng chuī xiān mèi piāo yáo jǔ， yóu sì ní cháng yǔ yī wǔ。
　　 yù róng jì mò lèi lán gān， lí huā yī zhī chūn dài yǔ。
　　
　　 hán qíng níng dì xiè jūn wáng， yī bié yīn róng liǎng miǎo máng。 zhāo yáng diàn lǐ 'ēn 'ài jué， péng lāi gōng zhōng rì yuè cháng。
　　 huí tóu xià wàng rén huán chù， bù jiàn cháng 'ān jiàn chén wù。 wéi jiāng jiù wù biǎo shēn qíng， diàn hé jīn chāi jì jiāng qù。
　　 chāi liú yī gǔ hé yī shàn， chāi bò huáng jīn hé fēn diàn。 dàn jiào xīn sì jīn diàn jiān， tiān shàng rén jiān huì xiāng jiàn。
　　 lín bié yīn qín zhòng jì cí， cí zhōng yòu shì liǎng xīn zhī。 qī yuè qī rì cháng shēng diàn， yè bàn wú rén sī yǔ shí。
　　 zài tiān yuàn zuò bǐ yì niǎo， zài dì yuàn wéi lián lǐ zhī。 tiān cháng dì jiǔ yòu shí jìn， cǐ hèn mián mián wú jué qī。

　　China's Emperor, craving beauty that might shake an empire,
　　Was on the throne for many years, searching, never finding,
　　Till a little child of the Yang clan, hardly even grown,
　　Bred in an inner chamber, with no one knowing her,
　　But with graces granted by heaven and not to be concealed,
　　At last one day was chosen for the imperial household.
　　If she but turned her head and smiled, there were cast a hundred spells,
　　And the powder and paint of the Six Palaces faded into nothing.
　　...It was early spring. They bathed her in the FlowerPure Pool,
　　Which warmed and smoothed the creamy-tinted crystal of her skin,
　　And, because of her languor, a maid was lifting her
　　When first the Emperor noticed her and chose her for his bride.
　　The cloud of her hair, petal of her cheek, gold ripples of her crown when she moved,
　　Were sheltered on spring evenings by warm hibiscus curtains;
　　But nights of spring were short and the sun arose too soon,
　　And the Emperor, from that time forth, forsook his early hearings
　　And lavished all his time on her with feasts and revelry,
　　His mistress of the spring, his despot of the night.
　　There were other ladies in his court, three thousand of rare beauty,
　　But his favours to three thousand were concentered in one body.
　　By the time she was dressed in her Golden Chamber, it would be almost evening;
　　And when tables were cleared in the Tower of Jade, she would loiter, slow with wine.
　　Her sisters and her brothers all were given titles;
　　And, because she so illumined and glorified her clan,
　　She brought to every father, every mother through the empire,
　　Happiness when a girl was born rather than a boy.
　　...High rose Li Palace, entering blue clouds,
　　And far and wide the breezes carried magical notes
　　Of soft song and slow dance, of string and bamboo music.
　　The Emperor's eyes could never gaze on her enough-
　　Till war-drums, booming from Yuyang, shocked the whole earth
　　And broke the tunes of The Rainbow Skirt and the Feathered Coat.
　　The Forbidden City, the nine-tiered palace, loomed in the dust
　　From thousands of horses and chariots headed southwest.
　　The imperial flag opened the way, now moving and now pausing- -
　　But thirty miles from the capital, beyond the western gate,
　　The men of the army stopped, not one of them would stir
　　Till under their horses' hoofs they might trample those moth- eyebrows....
　　Flowery hairpins fell to the ground, no one picked them up,
　　And a green and white jade hair-tassel and a yellowgold hair- bird.
　　The Emperor could not save her, he could only cover his face.
　　And later when he turned to look, the place of blood and tears
　　Was hidden in a yellow dust blown by a cold wind.
　　... At the cleft of the Dagger-Tower Trail they crisscrossed through a cloud-line
　　Under Omei Mountain. The last few came.
　　Flags and banners lost their colour in the fading sunlight....
　　But as waters of Shu are always green and its mountains always blue,
　　So changeless was His Majesty's love and deeper than the days.
　　He stared at the desolate moon from his temporary palace.
　　He heard bell-notes in the evening rain, cutting at his breast.
　　And when heaven and earth resumed their round and the dragon car faced home,
　　The Emperor clung to the spot and would not turn away
　　From the soil along the Mawei slope, under which was buried
　　That memory, that anguish. Where was her jade-white face?
　　Ruler and lords, when eyes would meet, wept upon their coats
　　As they rode, with loose rein, slowly eastward, back to the capital.
　　...The pools, the gardens, the palace, all were just as before,
　　The Lake Taiye hibiscus, the Weiyang Palace willows;
　　But a petal was like her face and a willow-leaf her eyebrow –
　　And what could he do but cry whenever he looked at them?
　　...Peach-trees and plum-trees blossomed, in the winds of spring;
　　Lakka-foliage fell to the ground, after autumn rains;
　　The Western and Southern Palaces were littered with late grasses,
　　And the steps were mounded with red leaves that no one swept away.
　　Her Pear-Garden Players became white-haired
　　And the eunuchs thin-eyebrowed in her Court of PepperTrees;
　　Over the throne flew fire-flies, while he brooded in the twilight.
　　He would lengthen the lamp-wick to its end and still could never sleep.
　　Bell and drum would slowly toll the dragging nighthours
　　And the River of Stars grow sharp in the sky, just before dawn,
　　And the porcelain mandarin-ducks on the roof grow thick with morning frost
　　And his covers of kingfisher-blue feel lonelier and colder
　　With the distance between life and death year after year;
　　And yet no beloved spirit ever visited his dreams.
　　...At Lingqiong lived a Taoist priest who was a guest of heaven,
　　Able to summon spirits by his concentrated mind.
　　And people were so moved by the Emperor's constant brooding
　　That they besought the Taoist priest to see if he could find her.
　　He opened his way in space and clove the ether like lightning,
　　Up to heaven, under the earth, looking everywhere.
　　Above, he searched the Green Void, below, the Yellow Spring;
　　But he failed, in either place, to find the one he looked for.
　　And then he heard accounts of an enchanted isle at sea,
　　A part of the intangible and incorporeal world,
　　With pavilions and fine towers in the five-coloured air,
　　And of exquisite immortals moving to and fro,
　　And of one among them-whom they called The Ever True-
　　With a face of snow and flowers resembling hers he sought.
　　So he went to the West Hall's gate of gold and knocked at the jasper door
　　And asked a girl, called Morsel-of-Jade, to tell The Doubly- Perfect.
　　And the lady, at news of an envoy from the Emperor of China,
　　Was startled out of dreams in her nine-flowered, canopy.
　　She pushed aside her pillow, dressed, shook away sleep,
　　And opened the pearly shade and then the silver screen.
　　Her cloudy hair-dress hung on one side because of her great haste,
　　And her flower-cap was loose when she came along the terrace,
　　While a light wind filled her cloak and fluttered with her motion
　　As though she danced The Rainbow Skirt and the Feathered Coat.
　　And the tear-drops drifting down her sad white face
　　Were like a rain in spring on the blossom of the pear.
　　But love glowed deep within her eyes when she bade him thank her liege,
　　Whose form and voice had been strange to her ever since their parting –
　　Since happiness had ended at the Court of the Bright Sun,
　　And moons and dawns had become long in Fairy-Mountain Palace.
　　But when she turned her face and looked down toward the earth
　　And tried to see the capital, there were only fog and dust.
　　So she took out, with emotion, the pledges he had given
　　And, through his envoy, sent him back a shell box and gold hairpin,
　　But kept one branch of the hairpin and one side of the box,
　　Breaking the gold of the hairpin, breaking the shell of the box;
　　"Our souls belong together," she said, " like this gold and this shell –
　　Somewhere, sometime, on earth or in heaven, we shall surely
　　And she sent him, by his messenger, a sentence reminding him
　　Of vows which had been known only to their two hearts:
　　"On the seventh day of the Seventh-month, in the Palace of Long Life,
　　We told each other secretly in the quiet midnight world
　　That we wished to fly in heaven, two birds with the wings of one,
　　And to grow together on the earth, two branches of one tree."
　　Earth endures, heaven endures; some time both shall end,
　　While this unending sorrow goes on and on for ever.

　　lèi shī luó jīn mèng bù chéng， yè shēn qián diàn 'àn gē shēng。
　　 hóng yán wèi lǎo 'ēn xiān duàn， xié yǐ xūn lóng zuò dào míng。

　　Her tears are spent, but no dreams come.
　　She can hear the others singing through the night.
　　She has lost his love. Alone with her beauty,
　　She leans till dawn on her incense-pillow.
　　
　　
　　2) Palace Plaint
　　Tr. Xu Yuan-zhong
　　
　　Her kerchief soak'd with tears, she cannot fall asleep,
　　When songs and beats of drums waft though the night is deep.
　　Her rosy face outlasts the favor of the king,
　　She leans on her perfumed bed till morning birds sing.

　　lǜ yǐ xīn pēi jiǔ， hóng ní xiǎo huǒ lú。
　　 wǎn lái tiān yù xuě， néng yǐn yī bēi wú？

　　There's a gleam of green in an old bottle,
　　There's a stir of red in the quiet stove,
　　There's a feeling of snow in the dusk outside –
　　What about a cup of wine inside?

　　lí lí yuán shàng cǎo， yī suì yī kū róng。
　　 yě huǒ shāo bù jìn， chūn fēng chuī yòu shēng。
　　 yuǎn fāng qīn gǔ dào， qíng cuì jiē huāng chéng。
　　 yòu sòng wáng sūn qù， qī qī mǎn bié qíng。

　　Boundless grasses over the plain
　　Come and go with every season;
　　Wildfire never quite consumes them –
　　They are tall once more in the spring wind.
　　Sweet they press on the old high- road
　　And reach the crumbling city-gate....
　　O Prince of Friends, you are gone again....
　　I hear them sighing after you.
　　
　　French version:
　　L'herbe
　　Fra?che et jolie, voilà l'herbe nouvelle qui cro?t partout dans la campagne;
　　Chaque année la voit dispara?tre, chaque année la voit revenir.
　　Le feu la dévore à l'automne, sans épuiser en elle le germe de la vie;
　　Que le souffle du printemps renaisse, elle rena?t bient?t avec lui.
　　
　　Sa verdure vigoureuse envahit peu à peu le vieux chemin,
　　Ondulant par un beau soleil, jusqu'aux murs de la ville en ruines.
　　L'herbe s'est flétrie, l'herbe a repoussé, depuis que mon seigneur est parti;
　　Hélas! en la voyant si verte, j'ai le c?ur assailli de bien cruels souvenirs.

　　lán yè chūn wēi ruí， guì huá qiū jiǎo jié。
　　 xīn xīn cǐ shēng yì， zì 'ěr wéi jiā jié。
　　 shuí zhī lín qī zhě， wén fēng zuò xiāng yuè。
　　 cǎo mù yòu běn xīn， hé qiú měi rén zhé？

　　Tender orchid-leaves in spring
　　And cinnamon- blossoms bright in autumn
　　Are as self- contained as life is,
　　Which conforms them to the seasons.
　　Yet why will you think that a forest-hermit,
　　Allured by sweet winds and contented with beauty,
　　Would no more ask to-be transplanted
　　THan Would any other natural flower?

　　zhū què qiáo biān yě cǎo huā， wū yī xiàng kǒu xī yáng xié。
　　 jiù shí wáng xiè táng qián yàn， fēi rù xún cháng bǎi xìng jiā。

　　Grass has run wild now by the Bridge of Red-Birds;
　　And swallows' wings, at sunset, in Blacktail Row
　　Where once they visited great homes,
　　Dip among doorways of the poor.
　　
　　
　　2) The Street of Mansions
　　Translated by Xu Yuan-zhong
　　
　　By the Bridge of Red Birds rank grasses overgrow;
　　O'er the Street of Mansions the setting sun hangs low.
　　Swallows which skimmed by painted eaves in bygone days
　　are now dipping among common people's doorways.

　　xīn zhuāng yí miàn xià zhū lóu， shēn suǒ chūn guāng yī yuàn chóu。
　　 xíng dào zhōng tíng shù huā duǒ， qīng tíng fēi shàng yù sāo tóu。

　　In gala robes she comes down from her chamber
　　Into her courtyard, enclosure of spring....
　　When she tries from the centre to count the flowers,
　　On her hairpin of jade a dragon-fly poises.
　　
　　
　　2) A Song of Spring
　　Tr. Xu Yuan-Zhong
　　
　　She comes downstairs in a new dress becoming her face,
　　When locked up, e'en spring looks sad in this lonly place.
　　She counts up flowers in mid-court while passing by,
　　On her lovely hair-pin alights a dragon-fly.

　　wáng jùn lóu chuán xià yì zhōu， jīn líng wáng qì 'àn rán shōu。
　　 qiān xún tiě suǒ chén jiāng dǐ， yī piàn jiàng fān chū shí tóu。
　　 rén shì jǐ huí shāng wǎng shì， shān xíng yǐ jiù zhěn hán liú。
　　 jīn féng sìhǎiwéijiā rì， gù lěi xiāo xiāo lú dí qiū。

　　Since Wang Jun brought his towering ships down from Yizhou,
　　The royal ghost has pined in the city of Nanjing.
　　Ten thousand feet of iron chain were sunk here to the bottom –
　　And then came the flag of surrender on the Wall of Stone....
　　Cycles of change have moved into the past,
　　While still this mountain dignity has commanded the cold river;
　　And now comes the day of the Chinese world united,
　　And the old forts fill with ruin and with autumn reeds.

　　tiān dì yīng xióng qì， qiān qiū shàng lǐn rán。
　　 shì fēn sān zú dǐng， yè fù wǔ zhū qián。
　　 dé xiāng néng kāi guó， shēng 'ér bù xiàng xián。
　　 qī liáng shǔ gù jì， lái wǔ wèi gōng qián。

　　Even in this world the spirit of a hero
　　Lives and reigns for thousands of years.
　　You were the firmest of the pot's three legs;
　　It was you who maintained the honour of the currency;
　　You chose a great premier to magnify your kingdom....
　　And yet you had a son so little like his father
　　That girls of your country were taken captive
　　To dance in the palace of the King of Wei.

　　yáo luò shēn zhī sòng yù bēi， fēng liú rú yǎ yì wú shī。
　　 chàng wàng qiān qiū yī sǎ lèi， xiāo tiáo yì dài bù tóng shí。
　　 jiāng shān gù zhái kōng wén zǎo， yún yǔ huāng tái qǐ mèng sī。
　　 zuì shì chǔ gōng jù mǐn miè， zhōu rén zhǐ diǎn dào jīn yí。

　　"Decay and decline": deep knowledge have I of Sung Yu's grief.
　　Romantic and refined, he too is my teacher.
　　Sadly looking across a thousand autumns, one shower of tears,
　　Melancholy in different epochs, not at the same time.
　　Among rivers and mountains his old abode – empty his writings;
　　Deserted terrace of cloud and rain – surely not just imagined in a dream?
　　Utterly the palaces of Chu are all destroyed and ruined,
　　The fishermen pointing them out today are unsure.

　　shǔ xiāng cí táng hé chù xún，
　　 jǐn guān chéng wài bǎi sēn sēn。
　　 yìng jiē bì cǎo zì chūn sè，
　　 gé yè huáng lí kōng hǎo yīn。
　　 sān gù pín fán tiān xià jì，
　　 liǎng cháo kāi jì lǎo chén xīn。
　　 chū shī wèi jié shēn xiān sǐ，
　　 cháng shǐ yīng xióng lèi mǎn jīn。

　　Where is the temple of the famous Premier? –
　　In a deep pine grove near the City of Silk,
　　With the green grass of spring colouring the steps,
　　And birds chirping happily under the leaves.
　　...The third summons weighted him with affairs of state
　　And to two generations he gave his true heart,
　　But before he could conquer, he was dead;
　　And heroes have wept on their coats ever since.

　　dài zōng fū rú hé？ qí lǔ qīng wèi liǎo。
　　 zào huà zhōng shén xiù， yīn yáng gē hūn xiǎo。
　　 dàng xiōng shēng céng yún， jué zì rù guī niǎo。
　　 huì dāng líng jué dǐng， yī lǎn zhòng shān xiǎo。

　　What shall I say of the Great Peak? --
　　The ancient dukedoms are everywhere green,
　　Inspired and stirred by the breath of creation,
　　With the Twin Forces balancing day and night.
　　...I bare my breast toward opening clouds,
　　I strain my sight after birds flying home.
　　When shall I reach the top and hold
　　All mountains in a single glance?

　　huā jìn gāo lóu shāng kè xīn， wàn fāng duō nán cǐ dēng lín。
　　 jǐn jiāng chūn sè lái tiān dì， yù lěi fú yún biàn gǔ jīn。
　　 běi jí cháo tíng zhōng bù gǎi， xī shān kòu dào mò xiāng qīn。
　　 kě lián hòu zhù hái cí miào， rì mù liáo wéi liáng fù yín。

　　Flowers, as high as my window, hurt the heart of a wanderer
　　For I see, from this high vantage, sadness everywhere.
　　The Silken River, bright with spring, floats between earth and heaven
　　Like a line of cloud by the Jade Peak, between ancient days and now.
　　...Though the State is established for a while as firm as the North Star
　　And bandits dare not venture from the western hills,
　　Yet sorry in the twilight for the woes of a longvanished Emperor,
　　I am singing the song his Premier sang when still unestranged from the mountain.

　　xī wén dòng tíng shuǐ， jīn shàng yuè yáng lóu。
　　 wú chǔ dōng nán chè， qián kūn rì yè fú。
　　 qīn péng wú yī zì， lǎo bìng yòu gū zhōu。
　　 róng mǎ guān shān běi， píng xuān tì sì liú。

　　I had always heard of Lake Dongting –
　　And now at last I have climbed to this tower.
　　With Wu country to the east of me and Chu to the south,
　　I can see heaven and earth endlessly floating.
　　...But no word has reached me from kin or friends.
　　I am old and sick and alone with my boat.
　　North of this wall there are wars and mountains –
　　And here by the rail how can I help crying?

　　jiāng jūn wèi wǔ zhī zǐ sūn， yú jīn wéi shù wéi qīng mén。
　　 yīng xióng gē jù suī yǐ yǐ， wén cǎi fēng liú jīn shàng cún。
　　 xué shū chū xué wèi fū rén， dàn hèn wú guò wáng yòu jūn。
　　 dān qīng bù zhī lǎo jiāng zhì， fù guì yú wǒ rú fú yún。
　　 kāi yuán zhī zhōng cháng yǐn jiàn， chéng 'ēn shù shàng nán xūn diàn。
　　 líng yān gōng chén shǎo yán sè， jiāng jūn xià bǐ kāi shēng miàn。
　　 liángxiàng tóu shàng jìn xián guān， měngjiàng yāo jiān dà yǔ jiàn。
　　 bāo gōng 'è gōng máo fā dòng， yīng zī sà shuǎng yóu hān zhàn。
　　 xiān dì yù mǎ yù huā cōng， huà gōng rú shān mào bù tóng。
　　 shì rì qiān lái chì chí xià， jiǒng lì chāng hé shēng cháng fēng。
　　 zhào wèi jiāng jūn fú juàn sù， yì jiàng cǎn dàn jīng yíng zhōng。
　　 sī xū jiǔchóng zhēn lóng chū， yī xǐ wàn gǔ fán mǎ kōng。
　　 yù huā què zài yù tà shàng， tà shàng tíng qián yì xiāng xiàng。
　　 zhì zūn hán xiào cuī cì jīn， yǔ rén tài pú jiē chóu chàng。
　　 dì zǐ hán gān zǎo rù shì， yì néng huà mǎ qióng shū xiāng。
　　 gān wéi huà ròu bù huà gǔ， rěn shǐ huá liú qì diāo sàng。
　　 jiāng jūn huà shàn gài yòu shén， ǒu féng jiā shì yì xiě zhēn。
　　 jí jīn piào bó gān gē jì， lǚ mào xún cháng xíng lù rén。
　　 tú qióng fǎn zāo sú yǎn bái， shì shàng wèi yòu rú gōng pín。
　　 dàn kàn gǔ lái shèng míng xià， zhōng rì kǎn lǎn chán qí shēn。

　　O General, descended from Wei's Emperor Wu,
　　You are nobler now than when a noble....
　　Conquerors and their velour perish,
　　But masters of beauty live forever.
　　...With your brush-work learned from Lady Wei
　　And second only to Wang Xizhi's,
　　Faithful to your art, you know no age,
　　Letting wealth and fame drift by like clouds.
　　...In the years of Kaiyuan you were much with the Emperor,
　　Accompanied him often to the Court of the South Wind.
　　When the spirit left great statesmen, on walls of the Hall of Fame
　　The point of your brush preserved their living faces.
　　You crowned all the premiers with coronets of office;
　　You fitted all commanders with arrows at their girdles;
　　You made the founders of this dynasty, with every hair alive,
　　Seem to be just back from the fierceness of a battle.
　　...The late Emperor had a horse, known as Jade Flower,
　　Whom artists had copied in various poses.
　　They led him one day to the red marble stairs
　　With his eyes toward the palace in the deepening air.
　　Then, General, commanded to proceed with your work,
　　You centred all your being on a piece of silk.
　　And later, when your dragon-horse, born of the sky,
　　Had banished earthly horses for ten thousand generations,
　　There was one Jade Flower standing on the dais
　　And another by the steps, and they marvelled at each other....
　　The Emperor rewarded you with smiles and with gifts,
　　While officers and men of the stud hung about and stared.
　　...Han Gan, your follower, has likewise grown proficient
　　At representing horses in all their attitudes;
　　But picturing the flesh, he fails to draw the bone-
　　So that even the finest are deprived of their spirit.
　　You, beyond the mere skill, used your art divinely-
　　And expressed, not only horses, but the life of a good man....
　　Yet here you are, wandering in a world of disorder
　　And sketching from time to time some petty passerby
　　People note your case with the whites of their eyes.
　　There's nobody purer, there's nobody poorer.
　　...Read in the records, from earliest times,
　　How hard it is to be a great artist.

　　qí wáng zhái lǐ xún cháng jiàn， cuī jiǔ táng qián jǐ dù wén。
　　 zhèng shì jiāng nán hǎo fēng jǐng， luò huā shí jié yòu féng jūn。

　　I met you often when you were visiting princes
　　And when you were playing in noblemen's halls.
　　...Spring passes.... Far down the river now,
　　I find you alone under falling petals.

　　xū gǔ duàn rén xíng， qiū biān yī yàn shēng。
　　 lù cóng jīn yè bái， yuè shì gù xiāng míng。
　　 yòu dì jiē fēn sàn， wú jiā wèn sǐ shēng。
　　 jì shū cháng bù dá， kuàng nǎi wèi xiū bīng。

　　A wanderer hears drums portending battle.
　　By the first call of autumn from a wildgoose at the border,
　　He knows that the dews tonight will be frost.
　　...How much brighter the moonlight is at home!
　　O my brothers, lost and scattered,
　　What is life to me without you?
　　Yet if missives in time of peace go wrong –
　　What can I hope for during war?

　　bái rì yǐ shān jìn， huáng hé rù hǎi liú。
　　 yù qióng qiān lǐ mù， gèng shàng yī céng lóu。

　　Mountains cover the white sun,
　　And oceans drain the golden river;
　　But you widen your view three hundred miles
　　By going up one flight of stairs.

　　shān guāng hū xī luò， chí yuè jiàn dōng shàng。
　　 sàn fā chéng xī liáng， kāi xuān wò xián chǎng。
　　 hé fēng sòng xiāng qì， zhú lù dī qīng xiǎng。
　　 yù qǔ míng qín dàn， hèn wú zhī yīn shǎng。
　　 gǎn cǐ huái gù rén， zhōng xiāo láo mèng xiǎng。

　　The mountain-light suddenly fails in the west,
　　In the east from the lake the slow moon rises.
　　I loosen my hair to enjoy the evening coolness
　　And open my window and lie down in peace.
　　The wind brings me odours of lotuses,
　　And bamboo-leaves drip with a music of dew....
　　I would take up my lute and I would play,
　　But, alas, who here would understand?
　　And so I think of you, old friend,
　　O troubler of my midnight dreams!

　　bái rì dēng shān wàng fēng huǒ， huáng hūn yǐn mǎ bàng jiāo hé。
　　 xíng rén diāo dǒu fēng shā 'àn， gōng zhù pí pá yōu yuàn duō。
　　 yě yíng wàn lǐ wú chéng guō， yǔ xuě fēn fēn lián dà mò。
　　 hú yàn 'āi míng yè yè fēi， hú 'ér yǎn lèi shuāng shuāng luò。
　　 wén dào yù mén yóu bèi zhē， yìng jiāng xìng mìng zhú qīng chē。
　　 nián nián zhàn gǔ mái huāng chù， kōng jiàn pú táo rù hàn jiā。

　　Through the bright day up the mountain, we scan the sky for a war-torch;
　　At yellow dusk we water our horses in the boundaryriver;
　　And when the throb of watch-drums hangs in the sandy wind,
　　We hear the guitar of the Chinese Princess telling her endless woe....
　　Three thousand miles without a town, nothing but camps,
　　Till the heavy sky joins the wide desert in snow.
　　With their plaintive calls, barbarian wildgeese fly from night to night,
　　
　　And children of the Tartars have many tears to shed;
　　But we hear that the Jade Pass is still under siege,
　　And soon we stake our lives upon our light warchariots.
　　Each year we bury in the desert bones unnumbered,
　　Yet we only watch for grape-vines coming into China.

　　yàn tái yī qù kè xīn jīng， jiā gǔ xuān xuān hàn jiāng yíng。
　　 wàn lǐ hán guāng shēng jī xuě， sān biān shǔ sè dòng wēi jīng。
　　 shā chǎng fēng huǒ lián hú yuè， hǎi pàn yún shān yōng jì chéng。
　　 shàoxiǎo suī fēi tóu bǐ lì， lùn gōng hái yù qǐng cháng yīng。

　　My heart sank when I headed north from Yan Country
　　To the camps of China echoing ith bugle and drum.
　　...In an endless cold light of massive snow,
　　Tall flags on three borders rise up like a dawn.
　　War-torches invade the barbarian moonlight,
　　Mountain-clouds like chairmen bear the Great Wall from the sea.
　　...Though no youthful clerk meant to be a great general,
　　I throw aside my writing-brush –
　　Like the student who tossed off cap for a lariat,
　　I challenge what may come.