Once stately figures in the art of rhyme,
Now sadly down at heels, our careers in ruin,
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Through flocks of mountains, myriad valleys,
I arrive in Jingmen,
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Hooded crows fly at night
over the walls of Chang'an,
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Third day, third month festival,
and the air fresh with spring;
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Your achievements overshadowed
any in the Three Kingdoms;
8 lines
Sharp wind, towering sky, apes howling mournfully;
untouched island, white sand, birds flying in circles.
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Zhu-ge's great name
hangs over the whole world;
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I remember fleeing the rebels
through dangerous northern canyons,
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News comes to Jianwai1 that Jibei has been recovered
and tears wet my garments when I hear the news.
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Drums on the watch-tower have emptied the roads -
At the frontier it's autumn; a wild-goose cries.
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I often saw you at the palace of the prince,
And twice at Cui’s I heard you sing for hours.
3 lines
One evening I found lodging in a village where
A press-gang stole by night to seize my aging host,
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A falcon hovers at the edge of the sky.
Two gulls drift slowly up the river.
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Boys in fancy clothes never starve,
but Confucian scholars often find their lives in ruin.
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Alone, the wild goose refuses food and drink,
his calls searching for the flock.
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Clouds drifting the whole day;
a traveler traveling who never arrives.
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At the home of the Prince of Qi
I have often seen you,
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Often in this life of ours we resemble, in our failure to meet, the Shen and Shang constellations, one of which rises as the other on
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You, General Cao Ba,
descendant of Cao Cao,
84 lines
How to describe Tai mountain?
Its green towers above all of Chi and Lu!
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We have come far together, but here we must part;
the green hills vainly echo my feelings.
8 lines
Clear autumn at headquarters,
wu-tung trees cold beside the well;
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Separation by death must finally be choked down,
but separation in life is a long anguish,
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Often a man's life is such
that he seldom sees his friends,
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Li Bai, no sight of you for a long time,
It's tragic that you pretend to be insane.
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Jade frost bites the maple trees
and Wu Mountain and Wu Gorge breathe out dark fear
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The city has fallen: only the hills and rivers remain.
In Spring the streets were green with grass and trees.
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I was stubborn by nature and addicted to perfect lines,
fought to the death to find words that startle.
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How is one to describe this king of mountains? Throught the whole of Ch'i and Lu one never loses sight of its greenness. In it the Cr
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Evening falls on palace walls shaded by flowering trees, with cry of birds flying past on their way to roost. The stars quiver as the
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