<Header>
<Author: 白居易>
<Title: 截樹>
<Format: 格式不明>
<Year: 1919>
<BookName: Translation from the Chinese>
<Translator: Arthur Waley>
<TranslatedTitle: Pruning Trees>
<BookPage: 233>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 0>
<End Header>
<Poem>
種樹當前軒，
樹高柯葉繁。
惜哉遠山色，
隱此蒙籠間。
一朝持斧斤，
手自截其端。
萬葉落頭上，
千峰來面前。
忽似決雲霧，
豁達覩青天。
又如所念人，
久別一款顏。
始有清風至，
稍見飛鳥還。
開懷東南望，
目遠心遼然。
人各有偏好，
物莫能兩全。
豈不愛柔條，
不如見青山。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
Trees growing,－right in front of my window;
The trees are high and the leaves grow thick.
Sad alas! the distant mountain view
Obscured by this, dimly shows between.
One morning I took knife and axe;
With my own hand I lopped the branches off.
Ten thousand leaves fall about my head;
A thousand hills come before my eyes.
Suddenly, as when clouds or mists break
And straight through, the blue sky appears;
Again, like the face of a friend one has loved
Seen at last after an age of parting.
First there came a gentle wind blowing;
One by one the birds flew back to the tree.
To ease my mind I gazed to the South East;
As my eyes wandered, my thoughts went far away.
Of men there is none that has not some preference;
Of things there is none but mixes good with ill.
It was not that I did not love the tender branches;
But better still,－to see the green hills!
<End Translation>