Far from hate, I am entangled in willows, and my dreams are long around pears. The blue one remembers the chapter, the platform and the moon, and the jade whip is oblique.
The green mirror cries and marks the sleeves, and the red wall is drunk with ink cage yarn. It takes a lifetime to meet, and spring thoughts enter the pipa.
Translation:
The parting hate often lingers in front of the willow tree that broke up. The dream soul can't forget the snow-white pear flower in the beauty courtyard. I remember that I was appreciated by her in a blue brothel when I was in a cold official position, and I didn't cross the horse until the moonlight was setting.
Beauty often looks at her haggard face in the green mirror, and her sleeves are covered with tears of acacia crying. When she was drunk, she danced on the red wall of poems, and the beauty imitated her predecessors to cage the blue gauze on the wall of poems. Today, when we meet again, we can't talk about all our worries, and all our infinite feelings are condensed in the pipa.
Second, in the Tang Dynasty, Liu Changqing's "Death of Immortal Hatred, Early Sunset in Qing Chuan", the original text:
A sunny day, the setting sun low hanging in the horizon, a lonely boat carrying a friend to leave, how melancholy now!
The birds fly far and near on the flat yuan ye, as if they were running with the water.
May the white clouds bring their own thoughts to the friends of thousands of miles away, and may the moon carry my sad thoughts with the water to my friends.
The bitter hate of a friend's relegation is difficult to say, as the lush spring grass of the river as sprawling as the endless.
Translation:
On a sunny day, the setting sun hangs low in the horizon, and a lonely boat carries a friend away. How melancholy it is at this moment! Birds fly far and near on the open Yuan Ye, as if people go their separate ways with the flowing water.
May Baiyun bring his thoughts to friends thousands of miles away, and may the bright moon carry my worries with the stream to my friends. The bitterness and hatred relegated by friends are indescribable, just like the lush spring grass by the river.
Three, the Tang Dynasty, Wang Wei's "Seven Pastoral Music Six/Living in Seclusion", the original
The red peach also contains the overnight new rain, green willow, more with a light spring smoke. (Smoke in the morning: Spring Smoke)
The children of the in the home were not swept away, and the orioles singing the languokous of idleness were still asleep.
Translation:
The red peach blossoms still contain fresh rain overnight, and the green wicker has a faint spring smoke.
Petals fall, the children at home are not cleaned, and Oriole crows the leisurely mountain travelers to have a deep sleep.
Four, the yuan dynasty Zhu Tingyu "Tianjingsha Autumn", the original:
The yard has lost all the leaves of the indus, the lotus in the water also lost the charm of the day. As if to know the poet, my mind. A frosted red leaves leaves the branches, flying close to let me write a poem.
Translation:
The leaves of the buttonwood tree in front of the courtyard have all fallen, and the lotus flowers in the water have long lost their charm. As if knowing the poet's mind. The red frost leaves flew away from the branches and flew to my side for me to write poems.
Five, the Song Dynasty Liu Chenweng's "Xijiang Yue Xin Qiu Xie Xing", the original:
The sky is as low as the old, and the children of the world are crazy. Try on new makeup everywhere at night. But it's heaven on earth.
I don't feel as cool as water, and my homesickness is like frost. Dreams cross withered mulberry trees from the bottom of the sea. Read all the galactic storms.
Translation:
The sun sets and the moon rises in the sky, and the stars move. The scene is the same as before, and men and women on earth are still crazy and intoxicated with the joy of the festival. On Qixi night, people dressed in new clothes can be seen everywhere, as if they had come to paradise on earth.
Inadvertently, I feel the coolness of the new autumn like water. Because I miss my hometown, my temples are as white as frost. I dreamed that I crossed the withered mulberry at the bottom of the sea and watched all the galactic storms in the sky.