诗歌欣赏(英文版)

Ah, generations have come and pasted away;

From year to year the moons look alike, old and new. ray, We do not know tonight for whom she sheds her


She sees the moon, but her beloved is out of sight;
She'd follow it to shine on her beloved one's face. But message-bearing swans can't fly out of moonlight,

Withered vines hanging on old branches, Returning crows croaking at dusk. A few houses hidden past a narrow bridge, And below the bridge a quiet creek running. Down a worn path, in the west wind, A lean horse comes plodding. The sun dips down in the west, And the lovesick traveler is still at the end of t he world.

With the hundred-mile length of the Heavenly Terrace Range, Which, just at this point, begins turning southeast. ...My heart and my dreams are in Wu and Yueh And they cross Mirror Lake all night in the moon. And the moon lights my shadow And me to Yan River -With the hermitage of Xie still there And the monkeys calling clearly over ripples of green water. I wear his pegged boots

Shatter the whole range. The stone gate breaks asunder Venting in the pit of heaven, An impenetrable shadow. ...But now the sun and moon illumine a gold and silver terrace, And, clad in rainbow garments, riding on the wind, Come the queens of all the clouds, descending one by one, With tigers for their lute-players and phoenixes for dancers. Row upon row, like fields of hemp, range the fairy figures. I move, my soul goes flying, I wake with a long sigh



The fragrance of the red lotus has faded away. Autumn chill seeped through my jadelike mat. I loosened my silk robe to board my magnolia boat alone. Who would send your messages through the clouds? I looked up for the wild geese. But in vain! As they returned in formation, My west chamber was full of moonlight.


Nor from white sand upon Farewell Beach below.

No dust has stained the water blending with the skies;
A lonely wheel like moon shines brilliant far and wide. Who by the riverside first saw the moon arise? When did the moon first see a man by riverside?


In spring the river rises as high as the sea,
And with the river's rise the moon uprises bright. She follows the rolling waves for ten thousand li, And where the river flows, there overflows her light.

Nor can letter-sending fish leap out of their place. Last night he dreamed that falling flowers would not stay. Alas! He can't go home, although half spring has gone. The running water bearing spring will pass away; The moon declining over the pool will sink anon. The moon declining sinks into a heavy mist; It's a long way between southern rivers and eastern seas. How many can go home by moonlight who are missed? The sinking moon sheds yearning o'er riverside trees.

My pillow and my matting Are the lost clouds I was in. ...And this is the way it always is with human joy: Ten thousand things run for ever like water toward the east. And so I take my leave of you, not knowing for how long. ...But let me, on my green slope, raise a white deer And ride to you, great mountain, when I have need of you. Oh, how can I gravely bow and scrape to men of high rank and men of high office Who never will suffer being shown an honesthearted face!


The river winds around the fragrant islet where
The blooming flowers in her light all look like snow. air, You cannot tell her beams from hoar frost in the
The
faded petals are scattered away, The water is flowing smoothly. Must we share the same longin g in two places? This love, I am unable to evade: — For when my eyebrows banish it, It overruns my heart.

A seafaring visitor will talk about Japan, Which waters and mists conceal beyond approach; But Yueh people talk about Heavenly Mother Mountain, Still seen through its varying deeps of cloud. In a straight line to heaven, its summit enters heaven, Tops the five Holy Peaks, and casts a shadow through China


But hear the river say to its water adieu.
Away, away is sailing a single cloud white; On Farewell Beach pine away maples green. Where is the wanderer sailing his boat tonight? Who, pining away, on the moonlit rails would learn?

Alas! The moon is lingering over the tower; It should have seen the dressing table of the fair. She rolls the curtain up and light comes in her bower; She washes but can't wash away the moonbeams there.
Байду номын сангаас

Up a ladder of blue cloud, Sunny ocean half-way, Holy cock-crow in space, Myriad peaks and more valleys and nowhere a road. Flowers lure me, rocks ease me. Day suddenly ends. Bears, dragons, tempestuous on mountain and river, Startle the forest and make the heights tremble. Clouds darken with darkness of rain, Streams pale with pallor of mist. The Gods of Thunder and Lightning

When will there be no more moon and spring flowers For me who had so many memorable hours? My attic which last night in vernal wind did stand Reminds cruelly of the lost moonlit land. Carved balustrades and marble steps must still be there, But rosy faces cannot be as fair. If you ask me how much my sorrow has increased, Just see the overbrimming river flowing east!