melancholy the long dreary day.In the golden censerthe burning incense is dying away.It is again timefor the lovely Double-Ninth Festival;The coolness of midnightpenetrates my screen of sheer silkand chills my pillow of jade.After drinking wine at twilightunder the chrysanthemum hedge,My sleeves are perfumedby the fragrance of the plants.Oh, I cannot say it is not endearing,Only,…
And climbed through mists to rosy clouds.I realized my destined affinityWith An Ch’i-sheng the ancient sage.I met unexpectedly O Lu-huaThe heavenly maiden.Together we saw lotus roots as big as boats.Together we ate jujubes as huge as melons.We were the guests of those on swaying lotus seats.They spoke in splendid language,Full of subtle meanings.The argued with…
To the tune of ‘Like a Dream’Last night a sprinkling of rain,a violent wind.After a deep sleep, still not recoveredfrom the lingering effect of wine,I inquired of the one rolling up the screen;But the answer came: ‘The cherry-apple blossomsare still the same.’‘Oh, don’t you know, don’t you know?The red must be getting thin,while the green…
We merely ask for the recent news of our homeland.The Palace of Spiritual Illumination must be still there,surrounded by desolation.What’s happened to the stone statues buried deep in the grass,still guarding the Imperial tombs?Is it true that our people left behind in the occupied territoriesare still planting mulberry trees and hemp?Is it true that the…
indolentI rise with a slender handput rightmy hairthe dew thickon frail blossomssweat seeping throughmy thin robeand seeingmy friend comestockings torngold hairpins askewI walk overblushinglean against the doorturn my headgrasp the dark green plumsand smell them.
spring is getting old.Screens unrolled cast heavy shadows.In my upper-story chamber, speechless,I play on my jasper lute.Clouds rising from distant mountainshasten the fall of dusk.Gentle wind and drizzling raincause a pervading gloom.Pear blossoms can hardly keep from withering,but droop.
Its shade fills the courtyard…Leaf to leaf, heart to heart,folding and unfolding,It expresses boundless affection.Sad and broken-hearted, lying awake on my pillow,Late into the nightI hear the sound of rain.It drips and splashes, cool and melancholy;It drips and splashes, cool and melancholy….Lonely for my beloved, grief-stricken,I cannot endure the mournful soundof rain.
spring is still young.The sudden change of the lightbrightened my spirit.But upon awakening from slumber,I felt the chill air;The plum flower withered in my hair.Where can I call my native land?Forget – I cannot, except in winewhen I drown my care.Incense was lighted when I went to sleep;Though the embers are now cold,the warmth of…
over the pavilion by the river,so tipsy we could not find our way home.Our interest exhausted, the evening late,we tried to turn the boat homeward.By mistake, we entered deep within the lotus bed.Row! Row the boat!A flock of herons, frightened,suddenly flew skyward.
to rearrange my hair.Plum flowers, newly fallen, drift about the courtyardin the evening wind.The moon looks pale and light clouds floatto and fro.Incense lies idle in the jade duck-shaped burner.The cherry-red bed-curtain is drawn close,concealing its tassels.Can Tung-Hsi’s horn still ward off the cold?
