Du Mu

Far on cold mountain stone path slant
White cloud live place be households
Stop carriage because love maple forest evening
Frost leaf red than second month flower
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Mist veils the cold stream, and moonlight the sand,
As I moor in the shadow of a river-tavern,
Where girls, with no thought of a perished kingdom,
Gaily echo A Song of Courtyard Flowers.
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Stories of passion make sweet dust,
Calm water, grasses unconcerned.
At sunset, when birds cry in the wind,
Petals are falling like a girl s robe long ago.
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Thousand li orioles call green reflect river
Water village hill rampart wine banner wind
South dynasty 480 temples
How many pavilions mist rain in
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Autumn wine rain in well made
Cold house fall leaf in
Hermit really much asleep
More pour one cup empty
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Early enter Shangshan hundred li cloud
Blue stream bridge under water sound divide
Flow water old sound person old ear
This time call not able listen
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Two poles set sun stream bridge on
Half thread light must willow reflection in
How much green lotus mutual support hatred
Instant turn head back west wind
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Window outside straight wind snow
Embrace stove open wine flask
How like fishing boat rain
Sail down sleep autumn river
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There are faint green mountains and far green waters,
And grasses in this river region not yet faded by autumn;
And clear in the moon on the Twenty-Four Bridges,
Girls white as jade are teaching flute-music.
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With my wine-bottle, watching by river and lake
For a lady so tiny as to dance on my palm,
I awake, after dreaming ten years in Yangzhou,
Known as fickle, even in the Street of Blue Houses.
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Her candle-light is silvery on her chill bright screen.
Her little silk fan is for fireflies....
She lies watching her staircase cold in the moon,
And two stars parted by the River of Heaven.
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She is slim and supple and not yet fourteen,
The young spring-tip of a cardamon-spray.
On the Yangzhou Road for three miles in the breeze
Every pearl-screen is open. But there's no one like her.
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How can a deep love seem deep love,
How can it smile, at a farewell feast?
Even the candle, feeling our sadness,
Weeps, as we do, all night long.
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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,
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Even in this good reign, how can I serve?
The lone cloud rather, the Buddhist peace....
Once more, before crossing river and sea,
I face the great Emperor's mountain-tomb.
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On a part of a spear still unrusted in the sand
I have burnished the symbol of an ancient kingdom....
Except for a wind aiding General Zhou Yu,
Spring would have sealed both Qiao girls in CopperBird Palace.
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Much feeling but seem all without feeling
Think feel glass before smile not develop
Candle have heart too reluctant to part
Instead person shed tear at dawn
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Pure Brightness time rain disordered and confused
Road on traveller almost broken spirit
Politely ask inn what place be
Shepherd boy far point apricot blossom village
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Green hills indistinct water far away
Autumn end river south grass trees wither
Twenty four bridges bright moon night
Jade person what place welcome blow flute
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