英譯: |
LONG-BEARDED Master Chang Is thirty-one,
A poet sent down from Heaven With flowers for bones.
Who of our company could replace This dragon-headed man,
That a princess sent to hold The fish-barb tablet?
The green grass of T'ai-hang Has climbed your robe.
Essays, memorials in your casket Rolled tight as silk-worms:
Golden Portals, Stone Pavilion, I know you will have,
Horn of unicorn, fragrant cloves, Dawn and dusk you’ll employ.
But Ch'ang-chi of Lung-hsi Is a wreck of a fellow,
Waking from drunken sleep With unquiet heart.
Coarse, linen clothes all tattered Though it's autumn in Chao-ch'eng,
Chanting poems the whole night long, Till the east grows white.
|