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杜 甫 (Du Fu, also Romanized as Tu Fu, 712 - 770 A.C.E, Chinese) |
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| Ch’eng-tu City | |
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Shaded, the sun among the mulberries and elms; It shines on my traveler’s clothes. I have journeyed over hill and stream’s strangness, And suddenly am at one corner of the sky. I shall meet none but new people; I cannot tell when I shall see my home. The Great River flows away to the east; Long is the time I have been a wanderer. The layered walls are filled with splendid houses; In winter’s last month the trees are green. |
Bustling is this famous city, Where pipes’ sounds are spaced by reed organ notes. Of true beauty but unpleasing to me; I turn away and gaze at the river bridge. Rooks and sparrows at night all return, Yet the Central Plain is distant and dim. The new moon does not climb high; The host of stars still disputes its light. From of old there have been travelers; Why should I so bitterly grieve? |
