一路经行处，莓苔见履痕。
　　白云依静渚，春草闭闲门。
　　过雨看松色，随山到水源。
　　溪花与禅意，相对亦忘言。

　　Walking along a little path,
　　I find a footprint on the moss,
　　A while cloud low on the quiet lake,
　　Grasses that sweeten an idle door,
　　A pine grown greener with the rain,
　　A brook that comes from a mountain source –
　　And, mingling with Truth among the flowers,
　　I have forgotten what to say.

　　乡心新岁切，天畔独潸然。
　　老至居人下，春归在客先。
　　岭猿同旦暮，江柳共风烟。
　　已似长沙傅，从今又几年。

　　New Year's only deepens my longing,
　　Adds to the lonely tears of an exile
　　Who, growing old and still in harness,
　　Is left here by the homing spring....
　　Monkeys come down from the mountains to haunt me.
　　I bend like a willow, when it rains on the river.
　　I think of Jia Yi, who taught here and died here-
　　And I wonder what my term shall be.

　　上国随缘住，来途若梦行。
　　浮天沧海远，去世法舟轻。
　　水月通禅寂，鱼龙听梵声。
　　惟怜一灯影，万里眼中明。

　　You were foreordained to find the source.
　　Now, tracing your way as in a dream
　　There where the sea floats up the sky,
　　You wane from the world in your fragile boat....
　　The water and the moon are as calm as your faith,
　　Fishes and dragons follow your chanting,
　　And the eye still watches beyond the horizon
　　The holy light of your single lantern.

　　泉壑带茅茨，云霞生薜帷。
　　竹怜新雨后，山爱夕阳时。
　　闲鹭栖常早，秋花落更迟。
　　家童扫罗径，昨与故人期。

　　At a little grass-hut in the valley of the river,
　　Where a cloud seems born from a viney wall,
　　You will love the bamboos new with rain,
　　And mountains tender in the sunset.
　　Cranes drift early here to rest
　　And autumn flowers are slow to fade....
　　I have bidden my pupil to sweep the grassy path
　　For the coming of my friend.

　　江汉曾为客，相逢每醉还。
　　浮云一别后，流水十年间。
　　欢笑情如旧，萧疏鬓已斑。
　　何因北归去，淮上对秋山。

　　We used to be companions on the Jiang and the Han,
　　And as often as we met, we were likely to be tipsy.
　　Since we left one another, floating apart like clouds,
　　Ten years have run like water-till at last we join again.
　　And we talk again and laugh again just as in earlier days,
　　Except that the hair on our heads is tinged now with grey.
　　Why not come along, then, all of us together,
　　And face the autumn mountains and sail along the Huai?

　　楚江微雨里，建业暮钟时。
　　漠漠帆来重，冥冥鸟去迟。
　　海门深不见，浦树远含滋。
　　相送情无限，沾襟比散丝。

　　Is it raining on the river all the way to Chu? – -
　　The evening bell comes to us from Nanjing.
　　Your wet sail drags and is loath to be going
　　And shadowy birds are flying slow.
　　We cannot see the deep ocean-gate –
　　Only the boughs at Pukou, newly dripping.
　　Likewise, because of our great love,
　　There are threads of water on our faces.

　　长簟迎风早，空城澹月华。
　　星河秋一雁，砧杵夜千家。
　　节候看应晚，心期卧亦赊。
　　向来吟秀句，不觉已鸣鸦。

　　While a cold wind is creeping under my mat,
　　And the city's naked wall grows pale with the autumn moon,
　　I see a lone wild-goose crossing the River of Stars,
　　And I hear, on stone in the night, thousands of washing mallets....
　　But, instead of wishing the season, as it goes,
　　To bear me also far away,
　　I have found your poem so beautiful
　　That I forget the homing birds.

　　道由白云尽，春与清溪长。
　　时有落花至，远随流水香。
　　闲门向山路，深柳读书堂。
　　幽映每白日，清辉照衣裳。

　　On a road outreaching the white clouds,
　　By a spring outrunning the bluest river,
　　Petals come drifting on the wind
　　And the brook is sweet with them all the way.
　　My quiet gate is a mountain-trail,
　　And the willow-trees about my cottage
　　Sift on my sleeve, through the shadowy noon,
　　Distillations of the sun.

　　天秋月又满，城阙夜千重。
　　还作江南会，翻疑梦里逢。
　　风枝惊暗鹊，露草覆寒虫。
　　羁旅长堪醉，相留畏晓钟。

　　While the autumn moon is pouring full
　　On a thousand night-levels among towns and villages,
　　There meet by chance, south of the river,
　　Dreaming doubters of a dream....
　　In the trees a wind has startled the birds,
　　And insects cower from cold in the grass;
　　But wayfarers at least have wine
　　And nothing to fear – till the morning bell.

　　故关衰草遍，离别正堪悲。
　　路出寒云外，人归暮雪时。
　　少孤为客早，多难识君迟。
　　掩泣空相向，风尘何所期。

　　By my old gate, among yellow grasses,
　　Still we linger, sick at heart.
　　The way you must follow through cold clouds
　　Will lead you this evening into snow.
　　Your father died; you left home young;
　　Nobody knew of your misfortunes.
　　We cry, we say nothing. What can I wish you,
　　In this blowing wintry world?

　　十年离乱后，长大一相逢，
　　问姓惊初见，称名忆旧容。
　　别来沧海事，语罢暮天钟。
　　明日巴陵道，秋山又几重。

　　After these ten torn wearisome years
　　We have met again. We were both so changed
　　That hearing first your surname, I thought you a stranger –
　　Then hearing your given name, I remembered your young face....
　　All that has happened with the tides
　　We have told and told till the evening bell....
　　Tomorrow you journey to Youzhou,
　　Leaving autumn between us, peak after peak.

　　故人江海别，几度隔山川。
　　乍见翻疑梦，相悲各问年。
　　孤灯寒照雨，深竹暗浮烟。
　　更有明朝恨，离杯惜共传。

　　Long divided by river and sea,
　　For years we two have failed to meet –
　　And suddenly to find you seems like a dream....
　　With a catch in the throat, we ask how old we are.
　　...Our single lamp shines, through cold and wet,
　　On a bamboo- thicket sheathed in rain;
　　But forgetting the sadness that will come with tomorrow,
　　Let us share the comfort of this farewell wine.

　　静夜四无邻，荒居旧业贫。
　　雨中黄叶树，灯下白头人。
　　以我独沉久，愧君相见频。
　　平生自有分，况是霍家亲。

　　With no other neighbour but the quiet night,
　　Here I live in the same old cottage;
　　And as raindrops brighten yellow leaves,
　　The lamp illumines my white head....
　　Out of the world these many years,
　　I am ashamed to receive you here.
　　But you cannot come too often,
　　More than brother, lifelong friend.

　　世乱同南去，时清独北还。
　　他乡生白发，旧国见青山。
　　晓月过残垒，繁星宿故关。
　　寒禽与衰草，处处伴愁颜。

　　In dangerous times we two came south;
　　Now you go north in safety, without me.
　　But remember my head growing white among strangers,
　　When you look on the blue of the mountains of home.
　　...The moon goes down behind a ruined fort,
　　Leaving star-clusters above an old gate....
　　There are shivering birds and withering grasses,
　　Whichever way I turn my face.

　　前年戌月支，城下没全师。
　　蕃汉断消息，死生长别离。
　　无人收废帐，归马识残旗。
　　欲祭疑君在，天涯哭此时。

　　Last year you went with your troops to Tibet;
　　And when your men had vanished beyond the citywall,
　　News was cut off between the two worlds
　　As between the living and the dead.
　　No one has come upon a faithful horse guarding
　　A crumpled tent or torn flag, or any trace of you.
　　If only I knew, I might serve you in the temple,
　　Instead of these tears toward the far sky.

　　旅馆无良伴，凝情自悄然。
　　寒灯思旧事，断雁警愁眠。
　　远梦归侵晓，家书到隔年。
　　沧江好烟月，门系钓鱼船。

　　Solitary at the tavern,
　　I am shut in with loneliness and grief.
　　Under the cold lamp, I brood on the past;
　　I am kept awake by a lost wildgoose.
　　...Roused at dawn from a misty dream,
　　I read, a year late, news from home –
　　And I remember the moon like smoke on the river
　　And a fisher-boat moored there, under my door.

　　红叶晚萧萧，长亭酒一瓢。
　　残云归太华，疏雨过中条。
　　树色随关迥，河声入海遥。
　　帝乡明日到，犹自梦渔樵。

　　Red leaves are fluttering down the twilight
　　Past this arbour where I take my wine;
　　Cloud-rifts are blowing toward Great Flower Mountain,
　　And a shower is crossing the Middle Ridge.
　　I can see trees colouring a distant wall.
　　I can hear the river seeking the sea,
　　As I the Imperial City tomorrow –
　　But I dream of woodsmen and fishermen.

　　遥夜泛清瑟，西风生翠萝。
　　残萤栖玉露，早雁拂金河。
　　高树晓还密，远山晴更多。
　　淮南一叶下，自觉洞庭波。

　　There's a harp in the midnight playing clear,
　　While the west wind rustles a green vine;
　　There's a low cloud touching the jade-white dew
　　And an early wildgoose in the River of Stars....
　　Night in the tall trees clings to dawn;
　　Light makes folds in the distant hills;
　　And here on the Huai, by one falling leaf,
　　I can feel a storm on Lake Dongting.

　　本以高难饱，徒劳恨费声。
　　五更疏欲断，一树碧无情。
　　薄宦梗犹泛，故园芜已平。
　　烦君最相警，我亦举家清。

　　Pure of heart and therefore hungry,
　　All night long you have sung in vain –
　　Oh, this final broken indrawn breath
　　Among the green indifferent trees!
　　Yes, I have gone like a piece of driftwood,
　　I have let my garden fill with weeds....
　　I bless you for your true advice
　　To live as pure a life as yours.

　　凄凉宝剑篇，羁泊欲穷年。
　　黄叶仍风雨，青楼自管弦。
　　新知遭薄俗，旧好隔良缘。
　　心断新丰酒，销愁又几千。

　　I ponder on the poem of The Precious Dagger.
　　My road has wound through many years.
　　...Now yellow leaves are shaken with a gale;
　　Yet piping and fiddling keep the Blue Houses merry.
　　On the surface, I seem to be glad of new people;
　　But doomed to leave old friends behind me,
　　I cry out from my heart for Xinfeng wine
　　To melt away my thousand woes.

　　高阁客竟去，小园花乱飞。
　　参差连曲陌，迢递送斜晖。
　　肠断未忍扫，眼穿仍欲归。
　　芳心向春尽，所得是沾衣。

　　Gone is the guest from the Chamber of Rank,
　　And petals, confused in my little garden,
　　Zigzagging down my crooked path,
　　Escort like dancers the setting sun.
　　Oh, how can I bear to sweep them away?
　　To a sad-eyed watcher they never return.
　　Heart's fragrance is spent with the ending of spring
　　And nothing left but a tear-stained robe.

　　客去波平槛，蝉休露满枝。
　　永怀当此节，倚立自移时。
　　北斗兼春远，南陵寓使迟。
　　天涯占梦数，疑误有新知。

　　You are gone. The river is high at my door.
　　Cicadas are mute on dew-laden boughs.
　　This is a moment when thoughts enter deep.
　　I stand alone for a long while.
　　...The North Star is nearer to me now than spring,
　　And couriers from your southland never arrive –
　　Yet I doubt my dream on the far horizon
　　That you have found another friend.

　　残阳西入崦，茅屋访孤僧。
　　落叶人何在，寒云路几层。
　　独敲初夜磬，闲倚一枝藤。
　　世界微尘里，吾宁爱与憎。

　　Where the sun has entered the western hills,
　　I look for a monk in his little straw hut;
　　But only the fallen leaves are at home,
　　And I turn through chilling levels of cloud
　　
　　I hear a stone gong in the dusk,
　　I lean full-weight on my slender staff
　　How within this world, within this grain of dust,
　　Can there be any room for the passions of men?

　　荒戌落黄叶，浩然离故关。
　　高风汉阳渡，初日郢门山。
　　江上几人在，天涯孤棹还。
　　何当重相见，樽酒慰离颜。

　　The old fort brims with yellow leaves....
　　You insist upon forsaking this place where you have lived.
　　A high wind blows at Hanyang Ferry
　　And sunrise lights the summit of Yingmen....
　　Who will be left for me along the upper Yangzi
　　After your solitary skiff has entered the end of the sky?
　　I ask you over and over when we shall meet again,
　　While we soften with winecups this ache of farewell.