| 英譯： |
He shakes his head
he will not stay
he'll follow east-going clouds
until they reach the sea
while the rest of us back here
read and admire his poems
he'll drop his fishing line
among the coral reefs
Cold spring, gray sky,
gloomy weather
he'll cross deep mountains,
vast marshes,
keeping the dragons and serpents
off, away in the distance
in a cold spring, amid bright winds,
the world lit by sunset
maybe some goddess will use
her chariot of clouds
to help him find the way
to bliss and carefree living
Ordinary people
cannot sense
that he has immortality
in his bones
loving him so much
we're desperate to keep him
have we forgotten wealth and fame
are dew in morning grass?
Only Cai, that fatalist,
counsels us with his silence
he chooses this fine everning
to spread a feast outdoors
I put my lute away
the moon watches sadly
I'll hope he'll write me letters
over all that distance
and in the south, seeking Yu's cave,
if he should meet Li Bai
maybe he will say, "Du Fu
asked for you and hopes all's well."
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