The low tower was cold, the night long, blinds and curtains hung down. How unwelcome, soughing on and on, the uncaring wind and rain that bruised their jadelike skin. They do not resemble Guifei’s face flushed with wine, nor do they resemble Sun Shou’s sorrowful eyebrows. The perfume that Director Han stole, the powder that Lady Xu wore, were not nearly so fresh and marvelous. When we look closely it is Qu Yuan and Tao Qian Whose graceful bearing befits theirs. 16 As a slight breeze stirs, their pure fragrance and refinement equal those of the briar rose. As autumn reaches its end, 20 their spotless snow and slender jade gaze with endless longing toward us. They seem filled with sorrow: the pearl pendants untied on Han’gao Mountain. They appear to be shedding tears, the white silk fan inscribed with a poem. In bright moonlight and chill winds heavy mists and dark rains, Heaven makes their fragrant beauty look haggard. No matter how much we cherish them it’s impossible to know, from this moment on, how much longer they will last. If a person truly cares for them, why must one always think back to Qu Yuan’s marsh and Tao Qian’s eastern hedge?
3.6 咏白菊 On the White Chrysanthemum
小樓寒
夜長簾幕低垂。
恨蕭蕭
無情風雨 夜來揉損瓊肌。 也不似 貴妃醉臉
也不似 孫壽愁眉。 韓令偷香 徐娘傅粉
莫將比擬未新奇。 細看取
屈平陶令
風韻正相宜。 16 微風起
清芬醞藉 不減酴醾。
漸秋闌 雪清玉瘦
向人無限依依。
似愁凝
漢皋解佩
似淚灑 紈扇題詩。 明月清風 濃煙暗雨
天教憔悴度芳姿。 縱愛惜
不知從此
留得幾多時。
人情好
何須更憶 澤畔東籬。
To the tune “Gorgeous”
On the White Chrysanthemum
The low tower was cold, the night long, blinds and curtains hung down. How unwelcome, soughing on and on,
the uncaring wind and rain that bruised their jadelike skin. They do not resemble Guifei’s face flushed with wine,
nor do they resemble Sun Shou’s sorrowful eyebrows. The perfume that Director Han stole, the powder that Lady Xu wore,
were not nearly so fresh and marvelous.
When we look closely it is Qu Yuan and Tao Qian Whose graceful bearing befits theirs.
16 As a slight breeze stirs, their pure fragrance and refinement equal those of the briar rose.
As autumn reaches its end, 20 their spotless snow and slender jade
gaze with endless longing toward us. They seem filled with sorrow: the pearl pendants untied on Han’gao Mountain.
They appear to be shedding tears, the white silk fan inscribed with a poem.
In bright moonlight and chill winds heavy mists and dark rains,
Heaven makes their fragrant beauty look haggard. No matter how much we cherish them it’s impossible to know, from this moment on, how much longer they will last.
If a person truly cares for them, why must one always think back to Qu Yuan’s marsh and Tao Qian’s eastern hedge?