<Header>
<Author: 李賀>
<Title: 王濬墓下作>
<Format: 格式不明>
<Year: 1970>
<BookName: The Poems of Li Ho>
<Translator: J. D. Frodsham>
<TranslatedTitle: Written by the Tomb of Wang Chün>
<BookPage: 141>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 4>
<End Header>
<Poem>
人間無阿童，
猶唱水中龍。
白草侵煙死，
秋梨遶地紅。
古書平黑石，
袖劒斷青銅。
耕勢魚鱗起，
墳科馬鬣封。
菊花垂溼露，
棘徑臥乾蓬。
松柏愁香澀，
南原幾夜風。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
No more Little Tungs left in the world today—
Yet still we sing of 'Dragons in the Water'.
White grasses, dead beneath invading mist,
Red coils of autumn goosefoot on the earth.
Ancient writing effaced from the black stones,
The green bronze spirit-sword is broken.
Ploughlands rising like scales of a fish,
Tomb's slope sharp as a horse's mane.
Petals of chrysanthemum drooping, wet with dew,
Dry wormwood lying on the date-tree path.
Poignant, the harsh fragrance of pine and cypress,
How many nights wind moaned these southern fields!
<End Translation>