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Hearing a Flute by Night on the Shouxiang Wall
Before Huile Peak the sand is like snow; beyond the Shouxiang wall the moon is like frost. No one knows where a reed pipe is being blown— all night the campaigning men gaze toward home.
夜上受降城闻笛
Written on a Rainy Night to the North
You ask when I will return; no date is set. Night rain in the Ba Mountains swells the autumn pools. When shall we trim a candle together by the western window and speak again of this night of rain in the Ba Mountains?
夜雨寄北
Looking for the Recluse and Not Finding Him
Beneath the pines I question the boy; he says his master has gone to gather herbs. He is only somewhere in this mountain, but the clouds are deep—who knows where?
寻隐者不遇
The West Brook at Chuzhou
What I love most is the quiet grass growing by the brook, with an oriole calling above it, deep in the trees. The spring tide, bringing rain, runs fast toward evening; at the wild crossing no one is there, and the boat lies athwart of itself.
滁州西涧
Climbing the Leyou Plateau
Toward evening my mood is out of sorts; I drive the carriage up to the ancient plain. The setting sun is boundlessly fine— it is only that dusk is near.
登乐游原
The Robe of Gold Thread
I urge you not to prize the robe of gold thread; I urge you to prize instead the years of youth. When a flower opens and can be picked, pick it at once; do not wait until, with no flowers left, you break a bare branch.
金缕衣
Quiet Night Thoughts
Moonlight before my bed— I take it for frost upon the ground. I lift my head and gaze at the bright moon; I lower it, thinking of home.
静夜思
Deer Enclosure
On the empty mountain no one is seen, yet the sound of human voices carries. Returning light enters the deep wood and shines once more on the green moss.
鹿柴