<Header>
<Author: 白居易>
<Title: 聞歌者唱微之詩>
<Format: 格式不明>
<Year: 1919>
<BookName: Translation from the Chinese>
<Translator: Arthur Waley>
<TranslatedTitle: On Hearing Someone Sing a Poem by Yüan Chēn>
<BookPage: 270>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 1, 5>
<End Header>
<Poem>
新詩絕筆聲名歇，
舊卷生塵篋笥深。
時向歌中聞一句，
未容傾耳已傷心。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
No new poems his brush wiII trace:
Even his fame is dead.
His old poems are deep in dust
At the bottom of boxes and cupboards.
Once lately, when someone was singing,
Suddenly I heard a verse－
Before I had time to catch the words
A pain had stabbed my heart.
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
No new poems his brush wiI I trace: Even his fame is dead.
His old poems are deep in dust At the bottom of boxes and cupboards.
Once lately, when someone was singing, Suddenly I heard a verse－
Before I had time to catch the words A pain had stabbed my heart.
<End Formatted Translation>