<Header>
<Author: 杜甫>
<Title: 對雪>
<Format: 格式不明>
<Year: 1952>
<BookName: TUFU China's Greatest Poet>
<Translator: William Hung>
<TranslatedTitle: SNOW>
<BookPage: 103>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 1>
<End Header>
<Poem>
戰哭多新鬼，
愁吟獨老翁。
亂雲低薄暮，
急雪舞迴風。
瓢棄尊無綠，
爐存火似紅。
數州消息斷，
愁坐正書空。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
The countless newly dead may lament the battles; As an old man, I shall
alone mumble my sadness. The whirling wind forces the snow into a
mad dance, The confused clouds press down in the dusk. Of what use
is the drinking ladle when there is not a drop in the winepot? The ashes
look red only because I imagine the stove is burning. Not a word from
the several prefectures! Preposterous! Preposterous!
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
The countless newly dead may lament the battles;
As an old man, I shall alone mumble my sadness.
The whirling wind forces the snow into a mad dance,
The confused clouds press down in the dusk.
Of what use is the drinking ladle when there is not a drop in the winepot?
The ashes look red only because I imagine the stove is burning.
Not a word from the several prefectures!
Preposterous! Preposterous!
<End Formatted Translation>