秋歌
长安一片月, 万户捣衣声; 秋风吹不尽, 总是玉关情。 何日平胡虏? 良人罢远征。 Folk-song-styled-verse Li Bai A SONG OF AN AUTUMN MIDNIGHT
A slip of the moon hangs over the capital; Ten thousand washing-mallets are pounding; And the autumn wind is blowing my heart For ever and ever toward the Jade Pass.... Oh, when will the Tartar troops be conquered, And my husband come back from the long campaign!
冬歌
明朝驿使发,一夜絮征袍。 素手抽针冷,那堪把剪刀。 裁缝寄远道,几日到临洮。
BALLADS OF FOUR SEASONS: WINTER
The courier will depart next day, she's told. She sews a warrior's gown all night. Her fingers feel the needle cold. How can she hold the scissors tight? The work is done, she sends it far away. When will it reach the town where warriors stay? |