<Header>
<Author: 杜甫>
<Title: 小寒食舟中作>
<Format: 格式不明>
<Year: 1952>
<BookName: TUFU China's Greatest Poet>
<Translator: William Hung>
<TranslatedTitle: WRITTEN IN THE BOAT ON THE SECOND DAY OF THE COLD FOOD FESTIVAL>
<BookPage: 272>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 1>
<End Header>
<Poem>
佳辰強飯食猶寒，
隱几蕭條帶鶡冠。
春水船如天上坐，
老年花似霧中看。
娟娟戲蝶過閑幔，
片片輕鷗下急湍。
雲白山清萬餘里，
愁看直北是長安。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
On this fine morning, we are still eating cold food, and I force myself to
sip a little wine; Wearing a hermit's cap, I lean on the stool in a mood
of quiet sorrow. Over the spring river we sail as if in the sky. To my
aged eyes flowers appear as though in a fog. Butterlfies, like pretty
maidens, flutter between parted curtains. Gulls, like pieces of white
paper, float down the rapid current. Through thousands of miles of
white clouds and blue mountains, I direct my unhappy gaze to the north
and think of Ch'ang-an.
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
On this fine morning, we are still eating cold food, and I force myself to sip a little wine;
Wearing a hermit's cap, I lean on the stool in a mood of quiet sorrow.
Over the spring river we sail as if in the sky.
To my aged eyes flowers appear as though in a fog.
Butterlfies, like pretty maidens, flutter between parted curtains.
Gulls, like pieces of white paper, float down the rapid current.
Through thousands of miles of white clouds and blue mountains,
I direct my unhappy gaze to the north and think of Ch'ang-an.
<End Formatted Translation>