| 英譯： |
I STARTED studying when I reached my teens,
Regretting I had left my plans too late.
Before Chang Chün earned his official carriage
This Yen-tzu's hair turned prematurely white.
The net of Heaven, though truly wide and high,
Trammelled this stubborn man in endless trouble.
My eyes had feasted upon sweet delights
My homeless heart found bitter as the smartweed.
Then came the fiery clouds of March and April,
Their peaks and crags whelming and toppling.
Who hung on high that bowl of crimson jade,
Flooding the eastern sky with reddest fire?
In that hot spring I raised my parasol,
Buds on the roadside elms still rabbit-eyes,
My brain on fire, my sickness on my face,
Gall filled my mouth, cramp twisted my guts.
There in the capital my heart was shattered,
Even in dreams I rarely saw my home.
My brakes released outside the Eastern Gate,
Sky and earth stretched infinite before me.
Green trees were burgeoning atop Mount Li,
A flowery wind invaded the Ch'in roads.
The palace towers, in dazzling disarray,
Unfurled in painted scrolls on peaks and crags.
Tender, green leaves, rondures of scarlet blossom,
Weeping and smiling, strewn along my way.
Down to that plateau perfumed breezes wafted,
Saddle and horse glittered in ornate splendour.
But I rode alone, in a hencoop of a cart,
Aware that I was clean out of the fashion.
Deep in my heart Substance held talk with Shadow.
Could I be happy journeying all alone?
Surely I could not lay aside my burden,
I'd tried to be a swan, but lost my luck.
Under the gloomy shades of Mount T’ai-hua,
Where ancient cypresses plant soldiers' banners,
I rode past dragons' hides strung out in lines,
And ever-fluttering wings of kingfisher-blue.
Though faint and weary from my wayfaring,
The scenery still wrung a smile from me.
Flowering vines caught at my curving yoke,
Thin, silken mist shrouded the sunken trail.
A fine, young man—a fine, young failure too—
I'm home to bring my aged mother shame.
Listening to a sutra, I pace beneath great trees,
Reading a book, I walk by a winding pool.
I realize I'm no tiger loosed from cage,
Rejoice to be a panther veiled in cloud.
Stringed arrows bring the birds of Han to earth,
Fish-baskets catch the dace of the River Hsiang,
This narrow path leads to no broad highway,
Why must a man fret over petty things?
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