<Header>
<Author: 杜甫>
<Title: 羌村 一>
<Format: 五言古詩>
<Year: 1912>
<BookName: CHINESE POEMS>
<Translator: CHARLES BUDD>
<TranslatedTitle: The Wanderer’s Return>
<BookPage: 96-97>
<UsedPage: 2>
<Feature: 6>
<End Header>
<Poem>
崢嶸赤雲西，
日腳下平地。
柴門鳥雀噪，
歸客千里至。
妻孥怪我在，
驚定還拭淚。
世亂遭飄蕩，
生還偶然遂。
鄰人滿牆頭，
感歎亦歔欷。
夜闌更秉燭，
相對如夢寐。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
THE setting sun beneath the red-lined clouds,
   Which mass around the foot-hills in the west,
Still floods the valley with a rose-hued light,
   And lures the chirping birds to seek their rest.

The wayworn traveller pauses near the gate,
   From which he sallied forth so long ago;
Unconscious then of what Fate held in store—
   The years of separation, loss, and woe.

The neighbours press around the garden fence,
   And gaze with mouth agape, or quietly sigh;
While wife and children awestruck, rigid stand,
   And then tears flow and to his arms they fly.

‘For years on revolution’s waves I’ve tossed,
   While wife and bairns mourned me in hopeless plight;
And now to-night, as in a dream, I sit
   With all my loved ones ’neath the lamp’s bright light.’
<End Translation>