| 英譯： |
SEEING off my friends, I drink the wine of parting,
After a thousand goblets, no flushed faces.
The most heart-rending sound I know?
Jingle of golden rings on horses' heads.
The coloured wilderness is vast, untamed,
Autumn bright under the boundless sky.
My courage ebbs from me all unawares,
My straining eyes follow my friends in vain.
Roadside pagoda-trees stretch a way westwards,
Long, green branches thickly bunched together.
$I've escorted these gentlemen to the waters of Ch'in,$
$Now I must go back to Lo-yang's mists again.$
The brothers Wei are both fine fellows,
Their brushes pour forth characters like jade,
I live in a little hut on top of a hill,
Around it, a weed-grown patch of stony ground.
On rainy nights, the tax collector's shouts
Darkly mingle with thump of pestle on mortar.
Who can understand my weary heart?
Only Mount South rears its green before me.
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