<Header>
<Author: 杜甫>
<Title: 閣夜>
<Format: 格式不明>
<Year: 1952>
<BookName: TUFU China's Greatest Poet>
<Translator: William Hung>
<TranslatedTitle: A NIGHT AT THE APARTMENT>
<BookPage: 237>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 1>
<End Header>
<Poem>
歲暮陰陽催短景，
天涯霜雪霽寒宵。
五更鼓角聲悲壯，
三峽星河影動搖。
野哭幾家聞戰伐，
夷歌數處起漁樵。
臥龍躍馬終黃土，
人事依依漫寂寥。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
Light and dark compete to shorten the day toward the close of the year.
Snow has stopped, and we have a clear cold night in this remote corner
of the world. The drums and bulges of the fifth watch before dawn
sound especially impassioned, While the stars in the Heavenly River
above the Three Gorges are twinkling.

Some people are crying for the war-dead-I wonder in how many homes?
I hear too the native songs of the early rising fishermen and woodcutters.
Both the loyal Chu-ko Liang and the unsubmissive White Emperor
ended in graves under the yellow earth. It does not matter that I am
lonely-that even letters have ceased to come.
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
Light and dark compete to shorten the day toward the close of the year.
Snow has stopped, and we have a clear cold night in this remote corner of the world.
The drums and bulges of the fifth watch before dawn sound especially impassioned,
While the stars in the Heavenly River above the Three Gorges are twinkling.
Some people are crying for the war-dead-I wonder in how many homes?
I hear too the native songs of the early rising fishermen and woodcutters.
Both the loyal Chu-ko Liang and the unsubmissive White Emperor ended in graves under the yellow earth.
It does not matter that I am lonely-that even letters have ceased to come.
<End Formatted Translation>