<Header>
<Author: 李白>
<Title: 寄東魯二稚子>
<Format: 格式不明>
<Year: 1971>
<BookName: CHINESE LYRICISM: Shih poetry from the second to the twelfth century>
<Translator: Burton Watson>
<TranslatedTitle: Sent to My Two Little Children in the East of Lu>
<BookPage: 150>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 2>
<End Header>
<Poem>
吳地桑葉綠，
吳蠶已三眠。
我家寄東魯，
誰種龜陰田。
春事已不及，
江行復茫然。
南風吹歸心，
飛墮酒樓前。
樓東一株桃，
枝葉拂青煙。
此樹我所種，
別來向三年。
桃今與樓齊，
我行尚未旋。
嬌女字平陽，
折花倚桃邊。
折花不見我，
淚下如流泉。
小兒名伯禽，
與姊亦齊肩。
雙行桃樹下，
撫背復誰憐。
念此失次第，
肝腸日憂煎。
裂素寫遠意，
因之汶陽川。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
Wu and mulberry leaves grow green,
already Wu silkworms have slept three times.
I left my family in the east of Lu;
who sows $(our)$ fields $(there)$ on the dark side of Mt. Kuei?
Spring chores too long untended,
river journeys that leave me dazed
south winds blow $(my)$ homing heart;
it soars and comes to rest before the wine tower.
East of the tower a peach tree grows,
branches and leaves brushed with blue mist,
a tree I planted myself,
parted from it these three years.
The peach now is tall as the tower
and still my journey knows no return.
P'ing-yang, $(my)$ darling girl,
picks blossoms, leaning by the peach,
picks blossoms and does not see me;
$(her)$ tears flow like a welling fountain.
The little boy, named Po-ch'in,
is shoulder high to $(his)$ elder sister
side by side they walk beneath the peach
who will pat them with loving hands?
I lose myself in thoughts of them;
day by day care burns out $(my)$ heart.
On this piece of cut silk I'll write $(my)$ far-away thoughts
$(and)$ send them floating down the river Wen-yang.
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
Wu and mulberry leaves grow green,
already Wu silkworms have slept three times.
I left my family in the east of Lu;
who sows $(our)$ fields $(there)$ on the dark side of Mt. Kuei?
Spring chores too long untended,
river journeys that leave me dazed
south winds blow $(my)$ homing heart;
it soars and comes to rest before the wine tower.
East of the tower a peach tree grows,
branches and leaves brushed with blue mist,
a tree I planted myself,
parted from it these three years.
The peach now is tall as the tower
$(and)$ still my journey knows no return.
P'ing-yang, $(my)$ darling girl,
picks blossoms, leaning by the peach,
picks blossoms and does not see me;
$(her)$ tears flow like a welling fountain.
The little boy, named Po-ch'in,
is shoulder high to $(his)$ elder sister
side by side they walk beneath the peach
who will pat them with loving hands?
I lose myself in thoughts of them;
day by day care burns out $(my)$ heart.
On this piece of cut silk I'll write $(my)$ far-away thoughts
$(and)$ send them floating down the river Wen-yang.
<End Formatted Translation>