<Header>
<Author: 白居易>
<Title: 聽歌>
<Format: 七言絕句>
<Year: 1971>
<BookName: Translations from Po Chü-I's Collected Works>
<Translator: Levy, Howard S, & Wells, Henry W>
<TranslatedTitle: Hearing a Song>
<BookPage: 150>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 1>
<End Header>
<Poem>
管妙絃清歌入雲
老人合眼醉醺醺
誠知不及當年聽
猶覺聞時勝不聞
<End Poem>
<Translation>
Wind instruments wondrous,
string instruments pure,
the song enters the clouds.
The old man closes his eyes,
tipsily befuddled.
I know
it's really not like
when I listened
in the days of my youth
but feel
it's still better
than not listening at all.
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
Wind instruments wondrous, string instruments pure, the song enters the clouds.
The old man closes his eyes, tipsily befuddled.
I know it's really not like when I listened in the days of my youth
but feel it's still better than not listening at all.
<End Formatted Translation>