<Header>
<Author: 杜甫>
<Title: 詠懷古跡五首 三>
<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: ON AN HISTORIC LAND MARK>
<BookPage: 190>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 1>
<End Header>
<Poem>
羣山萬壑赴荆門，
生長明妃尚有村。
一去紫臺連朔漠，
獨留青塚向黃昏。
畫圖省識春風面，
環佩空歸月夜魂。
千載琵琶作胡語，
分明怨恨曲中論。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
Where hills and valleys crowd toward Chingmen
Still prides a village on bearing the Bright Queen
Who left the Palace as the desert's thrall—
Her mark this mound at sunset alone green.
From portraits recognise the face of Spring?
Her pendants tinkle: she returns unseen
By moonlight, who taught mandolins to plain
These thousand years in Tartar of her wrong.
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
Where hills and valleys crowd toward Chingmen
Still prides a village on bearing the Bright Queen
Who left the Palace as the desert's thrall—
Her mark this mound at sunset alone green.
From portraits recognise the face of Spring?
Her pendants tinkle: she returns unseen by moonlight, 
who taught mandolins to plain these thousand years 
in Tartar of her wrong.
<End Formatted Translation>