Chinese Poems

江城子·记梦 顾太清 烟笼寒水月笼沙， 泛灵槎， 访仙家。 一路清溪双桨破烟划。 才过小桥风景变， 明月下， 见梅花。 梅花万树影交加， 山之涯。 水之涯。 淡宕湖天韶秀总堪夸。 我欲遍游香雪海， 惊梦醒， 怨啼鸦。 Jiang Chengzi: Recording a Dream Gu Taiqing Haze envelops the cold water, moonlight envelops the sand. Floating on a magic raft, I visit an immortal’s home. A clear stream all along the way, The two oars rise and fall, breaking the mist. Just past the little bridge the scenery changes: Under the bright moon, I see blossoming plum trees. A myriad of blossoming plum trees: their shadows intertwine To the edge of the hills, To the edge of the waters. They fall into the lake’s reflected heaven: Their loveliness certainly worthy of praise. I wanted to travel all over the sea of fragrant snow But startled out of my dream I blame the cawing crow. （David McCraw 译）...

秋波媚·夜坐 顾太清 自笑当年费苦吟。 陈迹梦难寻。 几卷诗篇， 几张画稿， 几许光阴。 唾壶击碎频搔首， 磨灭旧胸襟。 而今赢得， 千丝眼泪， 一个愁心。 Qiubo mei: Sitting at Night Gu Taiqing I laugh at my earlier self trying to work up verses: Old traces hard to find even in dreams. How many scrolls of poems? How many sketches for paintings? How much time has been... The spittoon shattered from tapping, I scratch my head often, Rubbing out my old ambitions. And now all I’ve succeeded in getting is A thousand streaks of tears And a grieving heart. （David McCraw 译）...

鹊桥仙·梦石榴婢 顾太清 一年死别， 千年幽恨， 尚忆垂髫初会。 眼前难忘小腰身， 侍儿里， 此儿为最。 悠悠往事， 不堪回首， 空堕伤心清泪。 夜深时有梦魂来， 梦觉后， 话多难记。 Que Qiao Xian: After I Dreamed of My Maid Pomegranate Gu Taiqing One year parted by death, A thousand years of deep sorrow. I still remember her childish locks when we first met; In my mind I cannot forget her tiny frame. Among my maids This girl was the best. The past so far from reach, I cannot bear to look back. In vain clear tears fall, breaking my heart. Deep in the night I often dream your soul comes. But when I wake from the dream, I cannot remember most of our talk. （David McCraw 译）...

江城梅花引·雨中接云姜信 顾太清 故人千里寄书来。 快些开， 慢些开， 不知书中， 安否费疑猜。 别后炎凉时序改， 江南北， 动离愁， 自徘徊。 徘徊， 徘徊， 渺予怀。 天一涯， 水一涯， 梦也梦也， 梦不见， 当日裙钗。 谁念碧云， 凝伫费肠回。 明岁君归重见我， 应不似， 别离时， 旧形骸。 Jiang cheng meihua yin: On a Rainy Day Receiving a Letter from Yunjiang Gu Taiqing Letter from a friend a thousand miles away: Open it quick! Open it slow! What’s in this letter? Is she well or not? My mind is a blank. Since our parting, cool and hot seasons have come and gone; But north and south of the River Arouse in me the grief of separation as I pace to and fro. To and fro, to and fro, I long for someone far away At the far end of the world, Beyond the water’s edge. I dream, I dream; Yet in my dream I cannot see your hairpin and skirt of those days. Who would remember the dark clouds? I stand transfixed waiting, my heart tied in knots. Next year when you return and see me again I should not be My old self at the time of our parting. （Grace S. Fong 译）...

鹧鸪天 顾太清 冬夜听夫子论道，不觉漏三商矣。盆中残梅香发，有悟赋此。 夜半谈经玉漏迟， 生机妙在本无奇。 世人莫恋花香好， 花到香浓是谢时。 蜂酿蜜， 茧抽丝。 功成安得没人知。 华鬉阅尽恒沙劫， 雪北香南觅导师。 Zhegu tian Gu Taiqing On a winter’s night, I sat listening to my husband discourse on the Way. Before we had noticed the hour, midnight struck. A withered plum tree in a pot emitted sweet scent; I felt an Awakening, and so wrote down this lyric. Midnight talk on sutrasjade water clock drips slow. Life’s greatest secrets just where no wonders reside. Worldly folk, don’t cherish the finery of flowery scents: When flowers smell sweetest, they begin to wither away. Bees brew up honey; silkworms spin out silk.1 When the task gets finished, how could no one realize? Withering braids have witnessed every Eon of Endless Sands; 2 North of Snow and South of Scent, I’ll seek a dharma guide.3 1. These lines recall a couplet from Bo Juyi’s allegory “Qin chong shi’er zhang”: “Silkworrms age, cocoons finished not to shelter themselves; / Bees go hungry, honey matures given to someone else.” 2. The Buddhist simile for time calls it infinite as “the sands of the Ganges”; the Chinese call Ganges the “Eternal River.” ‘‘Withering braids / floral garland” (huaman: Sanskrit kusumamala) denote the flowers decorating Buddhist altar…...

定风波·拟古 顾太清 花里楼台看不真， 绿杨隔断倚楼人。 谁谓含愁独不见， 一片， 桃花人面可怜春。 芳草萋萋天远近， 难问， 马蹄到处总消魂。 数尽归鸦三两阵， 偏衬， 萧萧暮雨又黄昏。 Ding fengbo: After the Ancient Style Gu Taiqing Tower and terrace blossom-wrapped, cannot see for sure. Green willows block and screen off a figure in the tower. Who said it is the held-in sorrows you cannot glimpse? One whole swath… Peach blossoms her face in dear, affecting Spring.1 Fragrant grasses lush and lovely, the skies far or near. So hard to ask… Wherever his horse’s hooves go, they always sear a soul. I’ve counted every last single flock of homing crows. Perverse to add… Dim and dour evening rains again as dusk turns dun. 1. An allusion to the Tang poet Cui Hu’s famous quatrain about returning to a place where once he had met a beauty, only to find her gone: “Last year, on this day, within this very gate, / Her face and peach blossoms shone each other pink. /And now her face wherever has it gone? / Peach blossoms as ever smile in springtime wind” (translated by David McCraw). （David McCraw 译）...

烛影摇红·听梨园太监陈进朝弹琴 顾太清 雪意沈沈， 北风冷触庭前竹。 白头阿监抱琴来， 未语眉先蹙。 弹遍瑶池旧曲， 韵泠泠， 水流云瀑。 人间天上， 四十年来， 伤心惨目。 尚记当初， 梨园无数名花簇。 笙歌缥缈碧云间， 享尽神仙福。 叹息而今老仆。 受君恩， 沾些微禄。 不堪回首， 暮景萧条， 穷途哀哭。 Zhuying yao hong: Hearing Eunuch Chen Jinchao of the Pear Garden [the Imperial Troupe] Play the Qin Gu Taiqing A sense of snow hangs heavy, North winds coldly cuff a courtyard bamboo-clump1 A white-haired eunuch enters, bearing his zither; Ere he speaks, his brows knit in fret. He plays through all those old Jasper Pool2 tunes: Tones purling, clear waters flow, clouds cascade. Here on earth, up in heaven, Well on forty years now Hurts the heart, stabs the eye.3 I still recall, back at first Pear Garden’s numberless bevy of famous blossoms. Pipe and song drifting aloft among slate clouds: We enjoyed all the luck of the sylphs. Heave a sigh: and now this aging servant Thanks to milord’s grace draws a scanty stipend. I can’t bear to turn back Dusky prospects dim and desolate Crying a song at road’s dead-end.4 1. The first lines of this poem recall an allegorical ode to bamboos Su Shi (Su Dongpo) wrote while jailed by Censorate officials. His first six lines: “Today the wind comes from the south/And blows atumble…...

醉桃源·题墨栀子团扇寄云姜 顾太清 花肥叶大两三枝， 香浮白玉巵。 轻罗团扇写冰姿， 何劳腻粉施。 新雨后， 好风吹， 闲阶月上时。 碧天如水影迟迟， 清芬晚更宜。 Zui Taoyuan: Inscribed on a Fan with Ink-Sketched Gardenias, Sent to Yunjiang1 Gu Taiqing Blossoms plump, leaves big: two or three boughs. Perfume drifts from a jade-white cup.2 A light, gauzy round fan limns icy raiments. Why bother to put on powder and paint? After fresh rains, A fine breeze blows. Idle stairs in the hour of moonrise. Cobalt sky like water, shadows slowly furl. Pure scent, even better in the dark. 1. Yunjiang was Gu’s closest friend. 2. Jade-white cup (yuzhi) describes the gardenia, names a flower nymph, and puns on “jade-white limbs” (yuzhi). （David McCraw 译）...

菩萨蛮·春花春月 纳兰性德 春花春月年年客， 怜春又怕春离别。 只为晓风愁， 催花扑玉钩。 娟娟双蛱蝶， 宛转飞花侧。 花底一声歌， 疼花花奈何。 Buddhist Dancers Nalanshinde Spring flowers under the Spring moon each year Are susceptible for their ephemeral glory. It’s in the doleful dawning breeze That flowers are hied to flap the jade crooks. How graceful are the leaf butterflies in pairs, That are flitting beside the flowers. Though under them, the merry chant goes all gooey, The flowers wilt regardless of any prizes for all the tea. （吴松林 译）...

菩萨蛮 纳兰性德 窗前桃蕊娇如倦， 东风泪洗胭脂面。 人在小红楼， 离情唱《石洲》。 夜来双燕宿， 灯背屏腰绿。 香尽雨阑珊， 薄衾寒不寒？ Buddhist Dancers Nalanshinde Delicate are the peach blossoms before the window, Tears streaming down the rouge face in the easterly wind. The person in the small red floor, Chanting in the most bitter touch of parting sorrow. The couple swallows lodging for the night, Their silhouette becomes dimmed on the mid-screen. The incense burns out in the rain drawing to a close, And in the thin quilt, are you all right? （吴松林 译）...

品画 袁枚 品画先神韵，论诗重性情。 蛟龙生气尽，不若鼠横行。 Talking Art Yuan Mei In painting it’s catching the “spirit” and “essence.” In poems that’s “nature” and “feelings.” An elegant dragon, with its life’s breath gone? Better a rat, with some scurry left in him. （J.P. Seaton 译）...

误佳期 谈印梅 别后车轮常转， 死后蚕丝难断。 千般懊恼万般娇， 怜尔何曾惯。 爱极转生憎， 聚久何妨散。 明知归信尚难凭， 先把归程算。 Wu jiaqi Tan Yinmei After parting, the carriage wheels roll on forever, Yet after death, the silkworm’s threads are hard to break. A hundred kinds of teasing, a thousand sorts of coyness: Loving you never became mere habit. At its peak, love turns and breeds hate. So long together, who cares if we part? Well aware that news of your return is still unsure, I first count the miles of your journey home. （Grace Fong 译）...

古剑 高鹗 一条秋水万黄金，千载谁明烈士心。 夜半虚堂雷雨入，壁间惊起老龙吟。 An Ancient Double-Edged Sword Gao E Most precious is the glittering double-edged sword; For a long, long time its aspiration has remained obscure. At midnight, when thunderstorm enters the empty hall, Like an ancient dragon it will start and groan on the wall. 1 1. It was believed that a sword would start and groan when it was ready for action. （王晋熙、文殊 译）...

夜小雨 蒲松龄 短更长更愁絮絮，三点两点雨星星。 雨声不似愁难断，颠倒匡床月入棂。 A Little Rainfall in the Night Pu Songling The endless night, like my sorrow, drags on and on; Raindrops fall in threes and twos to the ground. The pattering of rain, unlike my sorrow, may be spent; Moonlight creeps in while I toss and turn in bed. （王晋熙、文殊 译）...

亭林遗书·与人书 顾炎武 君诗之病在于有杜，君文之病在于有韩、欧。有此蹊径于胸中，便终身不脱“依傍”二字，断不能登峰造极。 《亭林遗书》 A Letter to My Friend Gu Yanwu The defects in your poems and in your essays consist in the fact that one may detect an element of the influence of Du Fu in the former and of Han Yu and Ouyang Xiu in the latter. With such influence in your mind, you can hardly be free of certain dependence upon these authors, and can never expect to make the summit in your literary creation. Posthumous Letters of Gu Yanwu （谢百魁、陈启达 译）...

沁园春·自题小影 谈印梅 来自何方， 去自何年， 孑然一身。 向花间小立， 瘦真露骨， 灯前密坐， 交已忘形。 卿本工愁， 我独落魄， 同作天涯薄幸人。 披图处， 独卿能知我， 我也怜卿。 何妨遁入空门。 早抛却、 红尘换白云。 奈乾啼湿哭， 未能免俗， 风磨雨折， 不若无生。 萱草长枯， 春晖久老， 无复爷娘唤女声。 君因怎、 也心如棋局， 抱恨难平。 Qinyuan chun: Inscribed on My Own Portrait Tan Yinmei Where did you come from? What year will you depart? Alone without any companion. For a short while you stand among the flowers So thin your bones are showing. We sit intimately by the lamp, Friends who have cast off formalities. You by nature sad And I still spiritless, Both are unfortunates at the edge of the world. I unroll the picture: Only you can know me And I cherish you too. Why not vanish through the Gate of Emptiness? Early on I threw away the red dust for white clouds. It’s just that in wailing and weeping tears I cannot avoid the common lot. Trials and tribulations Cannot compare with release from the cycle of rebirths. The lilies1 for curing sorrow have dried up forever, The light of spring grew old long ago, Never again will the parents call for their daughter. How is it that you too Have a heart like a game board, Uneven from holding resentment? 2 1. The…...

送夏进士序 龚自珍 乾隆中，大吏有不悦其属员者，上询之，以书生对。上曰：“是胡害？朕亦一书生也。”大吏悚服。呜呼，大哉斯言！是其炳六籍、训万祀矣。 嘉庆二十二年春，吾杭夏进士之京师，将铨县令，纡道别余海上。相与语，益进，啐然愉，谡然清，论三千年史事，意见或合或否，辄哈然以欢。余曰：“是书生，非俗吏。”海上之人以及乡之人皆曰：“非俗吏！”之京师，京师贵人长者识余者，皆识进士，亦必曰非俗吏也。 虽然，固微窥君，君若惧人之訾其书生者，又若有所讳夫书生者，暴于声音笑貌焉。天下事，舍书生无可属。真书生又寡，有一于是，而惧人之訾已而讳之耶？且如君者，虽百人訾之，万人訾之，啮指而自誓不为书生，以喙自卫，哓哓然力辩其非书生，其终能肖俗吏之所为也哉？为之而不肖愈见其拙回护其拙势必书生与俗吏两无所据而后已。噫！以书生之声音笑貌，加之以拙，济之以回护，终之以失所据。果尔，则进士之为政也，病矣！ 新妇三日，知其所自育；新官三日，知其所与。予识进士十年，既庆其禄之及，于吾里有光，而又恐其信道之不笃，行且一前而一却也。于其行，恭述圣训，以附古者朋友赠行之义。 On the Departure of the Jinshi Scholar Xia Gong Zizhen In the mid-Qianlong period, there was a high official who was dissatisfied with one of his subordinates. When the emperor asked him why, the official replied that the man was just a bookman. The emperor said, “What is wrong with being a bookman? I am one myself.” The official was stunned. Ah! What a marvelous pronouncement! Outshining all the six classics, it will be treasured for generations to come. In the spring of the twenty-second year of Jiaqing [1817] the jinshi scholar Xia Huang who came from my hometown to Hangzhou, made a detour to Shanghai to bid me farewell while on his way to the capital to receive his appointment as County Magistrate. As we talked, I found that he had become more advanced in his learning than before. This was reflected in his appearance—he looked pleasant and refined. In our discussion of the events of three thousand years of Chinese history we sometimes agreed and sometimes did not, but always we exchanged smiles of appreciation. I remarked, “This is a true bookman, not a common official.” People in Shanghai and the country…...

瑞鹤仙·酒家 郑燮 青旗江上酒， 正细雨梨花， 清明前后。 虾螺杂鱼藕， 况泥头旧瓮， 新开未久。 清醇可口， 尽醉倒渔翁樵叟。 向村墟归路微茫， 人与夕阳薰透。 知否？ 世间穷达， 叶底荣枯， 卦中奇偶。 何须计较， 捧一盏， 为君寿。 愿先生一扫长安旧梦， 来觅中山渴友。 解金貂付与当垆， 从今脱手。 Tune: Jui-ho hsien (An Immortal on an Auspicious Crane) Title: The Tavernkeeper Cheng Hsien A green flag—wineshop by the river Amid fine rain and blossoming pear trees. At this time of the spring festival. Shrimp and snails, mixed fish and lotus roots, And of course the old jug under seal, Opened only now, Pure, mellow, sweet, Enough to souse a fisherman or a woodman. The road back to village and town grown blurred, Man and setting sun are flushed through and through. Did you know There are rich and poor in the human world, Growth and decay among the leaves, Ins and outs on fortune’s wheel? So why worry? Raise the winecup, Long life to you, May you sweep away your old dreams of the capital And come to find your thirsty friends here in the hills. Take off that golden sable and give it to the tavern hand! From now on, let go! （Jan W. Walls 译）...

瑞鹤仙·渔家 郑燮 风波江上起， 系扁舟绿杨， 红杏村里。 羡渔娘风味， 总不施脂粉， 略加梳洗。 野花插髻， 便胜似宝钗香珥。 乍呼郎撒网鸣榔， 一棹水天无际。 美利， 蒲筐包蟹， 竹笼装虾， 柳条穿鲤。 市城不远， 朝日去， 午归矣。 并携来一瓮谁家美酝， 人与沙鸥同醉。 卧苇花一片茫茫， 夕阳千里。 Tune: Jui-ho hsien (An Immortal on an Auspicious Crane) Title: The Fisherman When wind and waves rise upon the river, They tie the little boat to a green willow tree, In the village of red apricot blossoms. How I envy the fisherwoman’s air: She uses no rouge or powder, Only occasionally works her hair. A wild flower on her bun Surpasses any jeweled earring or hairpin. Suddenly she calls her man to toss the net, sound the rattle, And they row the boundless river-sky. The profit’s good. Rush bags encase their crabs, Bamboo baskets hold their shrimp, And willow strands string their carp. The city’s not far away: Go there in the morning, Be back at noon. They bring along a vast of someone’s fine brew: Men and gulls get drunk together, Lying among blossoming reeds, a vast stretch of white, And miles and miles of setting sun. （Jan and Yvonne Walls 译）...

点绛唇·寒夜感怀 谈印梅 寂寞深闺， 当窗月色凉如水。 夜阑无睡。 湿透重重泪。 辗转匡床， 只有兰釭对。 闲庭内。 虫鸣鹤唳。 搅得心儿碎。 Dian jiang chun: Thoughts on a Cold Night Tan Yinmei Lonely solitude, deep in the boudoir: As I face the window, moonlight feels cool as water. Late at night, sleepless: Soaking wet from flood upon flood of tears. Toss and turn on the bed With only the orchid-oil lamp for company. In the quiet courtyard Insects chirp and a crane cries Shattering my heart to pieces. （Grace Fong 译）...

金缕曲·检得亡姊遗诗，悲成此调 谈印梅 偶把遗编读。 觉凄清、 风生满纸， 哀音裂竹。 貌比左芬年更少， 况又才逾徐淑。 肯久恋、 红尘千斛。 试问埋香何处好， 料青山、 也有修来福。 泉路下， 鬼应哭。 朝朝暮暮相追逐。 怎而今、 云消雨散， 形孤影独。 后会自然来世有， 谁道他生未卜。 可邀我、 同登仙箓。 昨夜分明惊入梦， 羡容颜、 依旧温如玉。 便携手， 述心曲。 Jinlü qu: Composed in Grief as I Sorted out My Sister’s Posthumous Poems Tan Yinmei It happens when I read the pieces she left behind: I can feel a chill, clear wind rising, filling the paper, Its sorrowful sound cracking the bamboos. In looks she compared with Zuo Fen, only more precocious; What’s more, her talent surpassed Xu Shu’s. She was ready to enjoy the full measure of this world of dust. Let me ask then: where would be a good place to bury her fragrance? Even the green hills would gain by her perfection. Down the road to the Yellow Springs Ghosts, too, must cry. Every morning, every evening, we pursued each other’s company. Why now have the clouds disappeared and the rain dispersed? And my form is single, my shadow alone. Of course we’ll meet again in worlds to come: Who says that future lives have not yet been divined? You can invite me to join you on the list of immortals. I was startled when you came into my…...

貂裘换酒·前调·与女兄夜话 谈印梅 秋掩重门里。 坐西窗、 联床翦烛， 良宵能几。 去日匆匆苍狗幻， 尝尽愁中滋味。 恨四壁、 埋忧无地。 蓦念光威分手日， 到那时、 忆着归宁未。 人一别， 便千里。 名山著述成何计。 叹年来、 东涂西抹， 半供游戏。 女伴过从元不少， 眼底纷纷弱绮。 算谁是、 闺中知己。 我有吟情抛未得， 更怜卿、 骨相都寒矣。 一灯灺， 浩歌起。 Diao qiu huan jiu: Talking at Night with My Elder Sister Tan Yinmei Autumn hides us behind double gates. Sitting on linked beds by the west window, we trim the candle. How many fine nights can there be? Days hurry by, the passing clouds an illusion. I’ve tasted all the flavors of sorrow And regret there’s nowhere to bury my worries within these walls. Suddenly I think of that awful day when we shall part: Then I’ll be anxious to see you return for a home visit. Once we separate It will be hundreds of miles. What’s the point of writing about famous mountains? I sigh that this year I’ve scribbled off and on, Half treating it as a game. I am associated with not a few women friends, Before my eyes, their silk gauze robes displayed in multitude. On whom can I count to be my companion in these chambers? I have been unable to abandon my poetic nature. Still more I’m sorry your features have all grown plain. When the…...

瑞鹤仙·官宦家 郑燮 笙歌云外迥， 正烛烂星明， 花深夜永。 朝霞楼阁冷， 尚牡丹贪睡， 鹦哥未醒。 戟枝槐影， 立多少金龟玉笋。 霎时间雾散云销， 门外雀罗张径。 猛省， 燕衔春去， 雁带秋来， 霜催雪紧。 几家寒冻， 又逼出， 梅花信。 羡天公何限乘除消息， 不是一家悭定。 任凭他铁铸铜镌， 终成画饼。 Tune: Jui-ho hsien (An Immortal on an Auspicious Crane) Title: Powerful Officials Cheng Hsien Music and song wandering beyond the clouds, Candles burning, stars bright, Flowers thick, the night goes on and on. Glowing sunrise in a cold upper room, Peonies greedy for a little more sleep, The parrots have not wakened. Amid the halberdlike shadows of the locust tree, Stand so many dignitaries with their insignia of office, In no time, the fog disperses and clouds disappear, So desolate, a sparrow net could be spread outside the gate. Suddenly he knows: Swallows have taken the spring away, Wild geese have brought the fall. And frost and snow press in, Some households feel the cold That forces out The sign of the blossoming plum. Ah, how closely Heaven divides and multiplies human fortune—waxing and waning! Not circumscribed by the greed of a single house, Even though cast with iron, molded of bronze, All are like cakes drawn on paper! （Jan W. Walls 译）...

瑞鹤仙·僧家 郑燮 茅庵欹欲倒， 倩老树撑扶， 白云环绕。 林深无客到， 有涧底呜泉， 谷中幽鸟。 清风来扫， 扫落叶尽归炉灶。 好闭门煨芋挑灯， 灯尽芋香天晓。 非矫， 也亲贵胄， 也踏红尘， 终归霞表。 残衫破衲， 补不彻， 缝不了。 比世人少却几茎头发， 省得许多烦恼。 向佛前烧炷香儿， 闲眠一觉。 Tune: Jui-ho hsien (An Immortal on an Auspicious Crane) Title: The Monk Cheng Hsien The thatched temple, leaning toward collapse, Is supported by an ancient tree, Encircled by white clouds. The forest deep, no visitors arrive, But a spring babbles at the bottom of the brook In the valley of hidden birds. Gentle winds come to sweep And sweep the fallen leaves into the stove, So he may close the door, bake potatoes, trim the lamp. The lamp expires, potatoes smell sweet, day dawns. No fakery— Though he hobnobs with nobility. Though he treads the red dust, Still he always returns to the rosy clouds; Tattered shirt, frazzled patches, Unmendable, Unsewable. He has less hair than a man of the world, But fewer troubles, too. He lights incense before the Buddha, Takes a nap at ease. （Jan W. Walls 译）...