<Header>
<Author: 李賀>
<Title: 高軒過>
<Format: 格式不明>
<Year: 1947>
<BookName: THE WHITE PONY: An Anthology of Chinese Poetry from the Earliest Times to the Present Day, Newly Translated>
<Translator: Robert Payne>
<TranslatedTitle: I PASS THE GREAT HALL>
<BookPage: 266-267>
<UsedPage: 2>
<Feature: 1>
<End Header>
<Poem>
華裾織翠青如葱，
金環壓轡搖玲瓏。
馬蹄隱耳聲隆隆，
入門下馬氣如虹。
云是東京才子，
文章鉅公。
二十八宿羅心胸，
九精照耀貫當中。
殿前作賦聲摩空，
筆補造化天無功。
龐眉書客感秋蓬，
誰知死草生華風。
我今垂翅附冥鴻，
他日不羞蛇作龍。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
The courtiers Han Yu and Huang Pu-tzu came to my house and commanded me to write poetry.

The bright silk trappings are onion-green,
Gold rings hold down the saddle, shaking with sweet music;
The sound of the horses' hooves thunders in my ears:
They enter the gate with the glory of a rainbow.
People say: Here comes the and the great writer from the East Capital,
And their breasts contain the twenty-eight stars of Heaven.
Such honourable loyalty pierces the centre of their hearts:
Their poetry written at Court sounds their names to the highest skies.
With their pens they can mend the forgotten works of the Creator: Heaven's labour in vain!
The student with the large eyebrows feels like a dry autumn reed.
But who knows, the dead grasses might meet a warm wind?
Dropping my own wings, I climb on those of the great swans.
Though I am a serpent, I will not be ashamed of becoming a dragon.
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
The courtiers Han Yu and Huang Pu-tzu came to my house and commanded me to write poetry.
The bright silk trappings are onion-green,
Gold rings hold down the saddle, shaking with sweet music;
The sound of the horses' hooves thunders in my ears:
They enter the gate with the glory of a rainbow.
People say: Here comes the and the great writer from the East Capital,
And their breasts contain the twenty-eight stars of Heaven.
Such honourable loyalty pierces the centre of their hearts:
Their poetry written at Court sounds their names to the highest skies.
With their pens they can mend the forgotten works of the Creator: Heaven's labour in vain!
The student with the large eyebrows feels like a dry autumn reed.
But who knows, the dead grasses might meet a warm wind?
Dropping my own wings, I climb on those of the great swans.
Though I am a serpent, I will not be ashamed of becoming a dragon.
<End Formatted Translation>