<Header>
<Author: 韓愈>
<Title: 病鴟>
<Format: 五言排律>
<Year: 1898>
<BookName: Chinese Poetry in English Verse>
<Translator: Herbert A. Gile>
<TranslatedTitle: THE WOUNDED FALCON>
<BookPage: 110-111>
<UsedPage: 2>
<Feature: 1, 2, 3, 4>
<End Header>
<Poem>
屋東惡水溝，
有鴟墮鳴悲。
青泥揜兩翅，
拍拍不得離。
群童叫相召，
瓦礫爭先之。
計校生平事，
殺卻理亦宜。
奪攘不愧恥，
飽滿盤天嬉。
晴日占光景，
高風恣追隨。
遂凌鸞鳳群，
肯顧鴻鵠卑。
今者命運窮，
遭逢巧丸兒。
中汝要害處，
汝能不得施。
於吾乃何有，
不忍乘其危。
丐汝將死命，
浴以清水池。
朝餐輟魚肉，
暝宿防狐貍。
自知無以致，
蒙德久猶疑。
飽入深竹叢，
飢來傍階基。
亮無責報心，
固以聽所為。
昨日有氣力，
飛跳弄藩籬。
今晨忽徑去，
曾不報我知。
僥倖非汝福，
天衢汝休窺。
京城事彈射，
豎子不易欺。
勿諱泥坑辱，
泥坑乃良規。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
Within a ditch beyond my wall
I saw a falcon headlong fall.
Bedaubed with mud and racked with pain,
It beat its wings to rise, in vain;
While little boys 0 threw tiles and stones,
$(Eager yo break the wretch's bones. )$
$(O bird, methinks thy life of late)$
Hath amply justified this fate!
Thy sole delight to kill and steal, 
And then exultingly to $(wheel)$, 
Now sailing in the clear blue sky, 
Now on the 0 $(wild gale sweeping by)$, 
0 
Scorning thy kind of less degree
As all unfit to mate with thee. 
But mark how fortune's wheel goes round; 
A pellet lays thee on the ground, 
Sore stricken at some vital part, —
And where is then thy pride of heart? 
What's this to me? —I could not bear 
To see the fallen one lying there. 
I begged its life, and from the brook
Water to wash its wounds I took. 
Fed it with bits of fish by day, 
At night from foxes kept away.
My care I knew would naught avail 
For gratitude, that empty tale. 
And so $(this bird)$ would crouch and hide 
0 $(Till want its  stimulus applied;)$
And I, with no reward to hope, 
Allowed its callousness full scope. 
Last eve $(the bird)$ showed signs of rage, 
With health renewed, and beat its cage. 
Today it forced a passage through, 
And took its leave, without adieu. 
Good luck hath saved thee, $(not desert;)$ 
Beware, $(O bird,)$ of further hurt; 
Beware the 0 $(archer's)$ deadly tools! —
'Tis hard to escape the shafts of fools —
Nor e'er forget the chastening ditch 
0 $(That found thee poor, and left thee rich.)$
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
Within a ditch beyond my wall
I saw a falcon headlong fall.
Bedaubed with mud and racked with pain,
It beat its wings to rise, in vain;
While little boys 0
threw tiles and stones,
$(Eager yo break the wretch's bones. )$
$(O bird, methinks thy life of late)$
Hath amply justified this fate!
Thy sole delight to kill and steal, 
And then exultingly to $(wheel)$, 
Now sailing in the clear blue sky, 
Now on the 0 $(wild gale sweeping by)$, 
0 
As all unfit to mate with thee. 
Scorning thy kind of less degree
But mark how fortune's wheel goes round; 
A pellet lays thee on the ground, 
Sore stricken at some vital part, —
And where is then thy pride of heart? 
What's this to me? —I could not bear 
To see the fallen one lying there. 
I begged its life, and from the brook
Water to wash its wounds I took. 
Fed it with bits of fish by day, 
At night from foxes kept away.
My care I knew would naught avail 
For gratitude, that empty tale. 
And so $(this bird)$ would crouch and hide 
0 $(Till want its  stimulus applied;)$
And I, with no reward to hope, 
Allowed its callousness full scope. 
Last eve $(the bird)$ showed signs of rage, 
With health renewed, and beat its cage. 
Today it forced a passage through, 
And took its leave, without adieu. 
Good luck hath saved thee, $(not desert;)$ 
Beware, $(O bird,)$ of further hurt; 
Beware the 0 $(archer's)$ deadly tools! —
'Tis hard to escape the shafts of fools —
Nor e'er forget the chastening ditch 
0 $(That found thee poor, and left thee rich.)$
<End Formatted Translation>