<Header>
<Author: 杜甫>
<Title: 鸚鵡>
<Format: 格式不明>
<Year: 1952>
<BookName: TUFU China's Greatest Poet>
<Translator: William Hung>
<TranslatedTitle: A PARROT>
<BookPage: 236>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 1>
<End Header>
<Poem>
鸚鵡含愁思，
聰明憶別離。
翠衿渾短盡，
紅觜漫多知。
未有開籠日，
空殘舊宿枝。
世人憐復損，
何用羽毛奇。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
The parrot seems to be sad; Perhaps it is wise enough to remember its
separation from its kin. The green feathers are now a bit shabby; Still
the red beak betrays too much knowledge.
While you vainly wait for the day when the cage will be opened, The
branch on which you used to perch has rotted away. Men pet you, and
also harm you. What is the use of being a rare bird?
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
The parrot seems to be sad;
Perhaps it is wise enough to remember its separation from its kin.
The green feathers are now a bit shabby;
Still the red beak betrays too much knowledge.
While you vainly wait for the day when the cage will be opened,
The branch on which you used to perch has rotted away.
Men pet you, and also harm you.
What is the use of being a rare bird?
<End Formatted Translation>