<Header>
<Author: 杜甫>
<Title: 茅屋為秋風所破歌>
<Format: 七言古詩>
<Year: 1912>
<BookName: CHINESE POEMS>
<Translator: CHARLES BUDD>
<TranslatedTitle: An Old House Unroofed by an Autumn Gale>
<BookPage: 59-60>
<UsedPage: 2>
<Feature: 1, 2, 3>
<End Header>
<Poem>
八月秋高風怒號，
卷我屋上三重茅。
茅飛度江灑江郊，
高者掛罥長林梢，
下者飄轉沈塘坳。
南村群童欺我老無力，
忍能對面為盜賊，
公然抱茅入竹去。
脣焦口燥呼不得，
歸來倚杖自歎息。
俄頃風定雲墨色，
秋天漠漠向昏黑。
布衾多年冷似鐵，
驕兒惡臥踏裏裂。
床床屋漏無乾處，
雨腳如麻未斷絕。
自經喪亂少睡眠，
長夜霑溼何由徹。
安得廣廈千萬間，
大庇天下寒士俱歡顏，
風雨不動安如山。
嗚呼！
何時眼前突兀見此屋，
吾廬獨破受凍死亦足。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
THE roof of my house has been blown away
   By the fiercest of Autumn 0 winds to-day;
It was merely of grass and branches built—
   Yet my only shelter save a wadded quilt.

Across the river it scurried and whirled, 
   In tangled tufts, by the hurricane hurled,
Ascending in gusts till caught by the trees,
   Or falling in ponds and on furrowed leas.

In great delight the village urchins shout, 
   And say I’m old and cannot run about;
And now before my face the rogues begin 
   To steal things, and then run away and grin.

At last I drive them off and hobble back 
   $(To find my home is shelterless, alack!)$
My lips are parched, my tongue is stiff and dry; 0
   My strength is gone, I can but rest and sigh 0.

The wind has slackened but dark clouds affright, 
   $(And wintry is the fast approaching night;)$
0
My bed is worn and hard, my clothing spare, 
0
   $(I cannot sleep for pain and anxious care.)$

0
0
The rain still drizzles through the rafters high, 0
   $(’Tween which I see the drifting stormy sky,)$ 
$(And everything is damp and comfortless:)$
0
   0 What can be done to lighten such distress?

Oh, would there were a mansion of delight,
   A hundred million rooms $(both fair and bright)$,
To shelter all the poor beneath the skies,
   And give the joy which lasting peace supplies.

0
0
Could I but see this mansion rise sublime 
Before my eyes at this, or any time;
My house and life to lose I’d be content, 
Could such great blessing to the world be sent.
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
THE roof of my house has been blown away 0 By the fiercest of Autumn 0 winds to-day;
It was merely of grass and branches built-Yet my only shelter save a wadded quilt.
Across the river it scurried and whirled, In tangled tufts, by the hurricane hurled,
Ascending in gusts till caught by the trees, 
Or falling in ponds and on furrowed leas.
In great delight the village urchins shout, And say I’m old and cannot run about;
And now before my face the rogues begin To steal things, and then run away and grin.
At last I drive them off and hobble back 
$(To find my home is shelterless, alack!)$
My lips are parched, my tongue is stiff and dry; 0
My strength is gone, I can but rest and sigh 0.
The wind has slackened but dark clouds affright, 
0
$(And wintry is the fast approaching night;)$
My bed is worn and hard, my clothing spare, 0
$(I cannot sleep for pain and anxious care.)$
0
0 
The rain still drizzles through the rafters high, 0
$(’Tween which I see the drifting stormy sky,)$ 
$(And everything is damp and comfortless:)$
0
0 What can be done to lighten such distress?
Oh, would there were a mansion of delight, A hundred million rooms $(both fair and bright)$,
To shelter all the poor beneath the skies, And give the joy which lasting peace supplies.
0
0
Could I but see this mansion rise sublime Before my eyes at this, or any time;
My house and life to lose I’d be content, Could such great blessing to the world be sent.
<End Formatted Translation>