| 英譯： |
WILLOWS of parting at your horse's head,
On the highway, ash-tree buds like rabbit-eyes.
We are going to endure a thousand-league parting,
All this suffering just for a peck of millet!
Southern clouds, northern clouds, Block off my view,
My heart-threes travelled as spring's pendant silk.
Blue eaves and wheeling trees, Moonlight floods my bed.
In dreams I see a hungry lad off to the provinces.
Your elder brother is now turned twenty,
The mirror tells him how his beard is growing.
Three years ago he left out home—to come to this!
Begging rice at princes; gates, An utter failure.
In weed-grown drains, standing water Bright as a blade,
In old willows south of the courtyard, Cutworms breed.
I worry about you, young Traveller to the River,
Over fields of the waste the evening Horns moan sadly.
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