<Header>
<Author: 崔塗>
<Title: 除夜有懷>
<Format: 五律>
<Year: 2009>
<BookName: Three Hundred TANG POEMS>
<Translator: Harris, Peter>
<TranslatedTitle: Thoughts written on New Year’s Eve on the Ba mountain road>
<BookPage: 42>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 2>
<End Header>
<Poem>
迢遞三巴路，
羈危萬裏身。
亂山殘雪夜，
孤燭異鄉人。
漸與骨肉遠，
轉於僮僕親。
那堪正飄泊，
明日歲華新。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
The road to Ba is a long, long way away‒
I'm making a hazardous journey over thousands of miles,
In a night of melting snow among a tumble of mountains,
By a solitary lamp $in spring$ in a strange land.
I'm gradually growing more distant from my relatives 
And getting closer to the servants instead.
How can I bear to be moving $from place to place$
Just now, when tomorrow will be New Year?
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
The road to Ba is a long, long way away‒
I'm making a hazardous journey over thousands of miles,
In a night of melting snow among a tumble of mountains,
By a solitary lamp $in spring$ in a strange land.
I'm gradually growing more distant from my relatives 
And getting closer to the servants instead.
How can I bear to be moving $from place to place$
Just now, when tomorrow will be New Year?
<End Formatted Translation>