The original text and translation of Su Shi's Ode to Spring in Dongting are as follows:

The original text: I heard the joy in oranges, but I didn't lose sight of Shang Shan. Don't eat the rest of the frost, and the four old people play in it. Realizing the bubble illusion of this world, hiding thousands of miles in one class, raising the spare leaves of jujube, why is it difficult to accept mustard seeds, and it is appropriate for a wise king to be philosophical and send his thoughts to the world. The spring breeze is blowing, and the sky is full of leisure. Blowing the white waves in Dongting, rising the Cangwan of Beizhu. Travel with beautiful women, be diligent in fog and wind, command thousands of slaves with yellow heads, roll up the shock and return it with all, and mix with two meters of grain to help the three ridges.

suddenly, the clouds are steaming and the ice is melting, and the beads are spinning without tears. Jade spoon and silver poppy, purple winding and green LUN, belong to the car, and the copper lute of the wooden door. Divide the emperor's shackles, but fortunately, the son's shackles. I washed the lamp and tasted it, which dispelled the stubbornness of my waist and feet. Do the three rivers in one breath, swallow the evil god of ichthyosaurs, and have a variety of drunken dreams. At first, it was like a slap in the face, and it was a slap in the face, and it was the gateway to the forest house.

Lying in the wind, shrinking, uncovering the murmur of spring, chasing Fan Li in the distance, and hanging Fu Cha's mourning belong to Xizi, washing away the sorrow of national subjugation. Scared the dust of socks, lost the bow of dance sleeves. I felt it and gave it to my son, saying: Wu Hu Xi Xi: I boasted: my son deleted it for me.

translation: I heard that playing in the orange forest, naturally, I have to talk about Shangshan (now the southeast of Shangxian County, Shaanxi Province). How can you say that the frosted oranges can't be eaten? Aren't four old people, including Dong Yuangong, playing in the orange forest at the end of Qin Dynasty and the beginning of Han Dynasty? Feeling the bubble in this world, hiding thousands of miles of mountains and rivers in the spots of an orange.

It's easy to hold the leaves of jujube, but how difficult it is to collect mustard seeds. We should be as open-minded and cheerful as the virtuous king of stability, and pin our detached imagination on the world. Like a spring breeze, it floats leisurely on the sky. The surging white waves blowing Dongting filled the Cangwan of the northern river. Take the beautiful woman to visit there, and let the breeze blow our temples and the beautiful woman's bun. Let the yellow steed lead many followers, and roll up the power to shake the lake.

straw mixed with Shangjiang rice and rice is paved with triangular sedge. Suddenly, the steam rises and the ice water melts, and then the wine is like pearls dripping down like tears. Use an emerald spoon and a silver wine vessel, and put on a blue nylon scarf decorated with purple beads. Knock on the copper ring on the wooden door with the owl-like wine bag on the wine cart.

Fortunately, Delin, the son of the Emperor, is not stingy in sharing the leftover wine in the imperial wine cellar. I quickly washed the glass and tasted it to dispel the stubborn disease of numbness and pain in my waist and legs. It seems that all the floods in Sanjiang are in this drink, swallowing the fish dragons and ghosts in the river. Suddenly drunk, suddenly like a dream, the scenery in my mind is varied, and I start to be a little crazy.

Shake the paddle made of osmanthus trees on Bashan Mountain, and knock on the door of fairy house in Qionglou in the forest. Lying drunk in the cold breeze, I tightened my body and scooped up the gurgling spring in spring. I followed Fan Li, a famous figure of Yue State in the Spring and Autumn Period, into a dim phantom, recalling and mourning the lonely figure of Fu Cha, the king of Wu.

Tell the unfortunate Xi Shi girl to use this cup of wine to wash her face that is aging because of the sorrow of national subjugation. Stumbling on the road, clothes, shoes and socks started to wash dust, and lost the posture of dancing robe sleeves and bending over. After waking up, I made this poem and presented it to my son, saying, "Haha! My words are exaggerated. Please make some corrections for me. "