When I was a boy I called the moon a White plate of jade, sometimes it looked Like a great mirror hanging in the sky, First came the two legs of the fairy And
Amongst the flowers I Am alone with my pot of wine Drinking by myself; then lifting My cup I asked the moon To drink with me, its reflection And mine in the wine cup,
From the walls of Baidi high in the coloured dawn To Jiangling by night-fall is three hundred miles, Yet monkeys are still calling on both banks behind me To my boat these ten thousand
See the waters of the Yellow River leap down from Heaven, Roll away to the deep sea and never turn again! See at the mirror In the High Hall Aged men bewailing white locks
Blue mountains lie beyond the north wall; Round the city’s eastern side flows the white water. Here we part, friend, once forever. You go ten thousand miles, drifting away Like an unrooted water-grass. Oh,
A jade cup was broken because old age came Too soon to give fulfilment to hopes; after drinking Three cups of wine I wiped my sword and Started to dance under an autumn moon
I was about to sail away in a junk, When suddenly I heard The sound of stamping and singing on the bank- It was you and your friends come to bid me farewell. The
Before my bed There is bright moonlight So that it seems Like frost on the ground: Lifting my head I watch the bright moon, Lowering my head I dream that I’m home.
“Bathed in fragrance, Do not brush your hat; Washed in perfume, Do not shake your coat: “Knowing the world Fears what is too pure, The wisest man Prizes and stores light!” By Bluewater An
Drunk on Dragon Hill tonight, The banished immortal, Great White, Turns among yellow flowers, His smile wide, As his hat sails away on the wind And he dances away in the moonlight.
Dew whitens the jade stairs. This late, it soaks her gauze stockings. She lowers her crystal blind to watch The breaking, glass-clear moon of autumn.
Under the crescent moon’s faint glow The washerman’s bat resounds afar, And the autumn breeze sighs tenderly. But my heart has gone to the Tartar war, To bleak Kansuh and the steppes of snow,
We climbed Yoyang Tower with All the scene around coming Into vision; looking up the Great River seeing boats turn And enter the Tungting Lake; geese Crying farewell to the river As they flew
Since yesterday had throw me and bolt, Today has hurt my heart even more. The autumn wildgeese have a long wing for escort As I face them from this villa, drinking my wine. The
In what house, the jade flute that sends these dark notes drifting, Scattering on the spring wind that fills Lo-yang? Tonight if we should hear the willow-breaking song, Who could help but long for