<Header>
<Author: 杜甫>
<Title: 登高>
<Format: 七言律詩>
<Year: 2009>
<BookName: Three Hundred TANG POEMS>
<Translator: Harris, Peter>
<TranslatedTitle: Climbing up high>
<BookPage: 77>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 1>
<End Header>
<Poem>
風急天高猿嘯哀，
渚清沙白鳥飛迴。
無邊落木蕭蕭下，
不盡長江袞袞來。
萬里悲秋常作客，
百年多病獨登臺。
艱難苦恨繁霜鬢，
潦倒新停濁酒杯。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
The wind blows hard, the sky is high, 
the apes wail mournfully;
The island is clean, the sand is white, 
above it the birds wheel round.
The falling leaves of the boundless woods
drop down withered and cold;
Endlessly the Yangzi River
comes swirling and rolling along.
I travel on for thousands of miles 
through the sad autumn days;
Plagued with the sickness of many decades,
I climb the tower alone.
With these hard times and my bitter regrets,
I’m growing more frosty hair,
Dejected now that I’ve given up drinking
my rough-brewed ale.
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
The wind blows hard, the sky is high, the apes wail mournfully;
The island is clean, the sand is white, above it the birds wheel round.
The falling leaves of the boundless woods drop down withered and cold;
Endlessly the Yangzi River comes swirling and rolling along.
I travel on for thousands of miles through the sad autumn days;
Plagued with the sickness of many decades, I climb the tower alone.
With these hard times and my bitter regrets, I'm growing more frosty hair,
Dejected now that I've given up drinking my rough-brewed ale.
<End Formatted Translation>