<Header>
<Author: 李賀>
<Title: 李憑箜篌引>
<Format: 格式不明>
<Year: 1989>
<BookName: 100 TANG POEMS 唐詩一百首>
<Translator: Zhang Tingchen & Bruce M. Wilson>
<TranslatedTitle:  Li Ping at the Harp>
<BookPage: 188-191>
<UsedPage: 4>
<Feature: 1, 2, 3, 4>
<End Header>
<Poem>
吳絲蜀桐張高秋，
空白凝雲頹不流。
江娥啼竹素女愁，
李憑中國彈箜篌。
崑山玉碎鳳皇呌，
芙蓉泣露香蘭笑。
十二門前融冷光，
二十三絲動紫皇。
女媧鍊石補天處，
石破天驚逗秋雨。
夢入坤山教神嫗，
老魚跳波瘦蛟舞。
吳質不眠倚桂樹，
露脚斜飛溼寒兔。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
In autumn's fullness in the Middle Kingdom, when Li Ping
Plucks silk strings from Wu framed with sycamore from Shu,
The floating clouds stand still over empty mountains,
The River Maidens weep again in bamboo groves,
And even Su Nu aches with envy when hearing the sounds that
stream from Li Ping's harp,
$As sweet as$ 00 shattering jade and phoenixes' cries.
Lotus shed their dewy tears, and orchids smile at
Sounds that banish chill gloom from out the Twelve Gates,
Twenty-three strings that could rouse the Purple Emperor
himself.
The music drifts to Nu Wa's place of melting stone where she's
supposed to mend the rent in Heaven,
and 00 from the stunned sky the autumn rains descend.
It journeys dreamily to the holy mountain,
where the old Hag humbly lends her ears.
The aged fish leaps high above the waves, and the thinnest of
dragons prances.
The tired Wu Gang, forgetting sleep, leans
spellbound against the lunar cassia tree,
while steadily slanting dew drenches the chill Hare.
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
In autumn's fullness when Li Ping Plucks silk strings from Wu framed with sycamore from Shu,
The floating clouds stand still over empty mountains,
The River Maidens weep again in bamboo groves, And even Su Nu aches with envy
when hearing the sounds that stream from Li Ping's harp, in the Middle Kingdom,
$As sweet as$ 00 shattering jade and phoenixes' cries.
Lotus shed their dewy tears, and orchids smile at
Sounds that banish chill gloom from out the Twelve Gates,
Twenty-three strings that could rouse the Purple Emperor himself.
The music drifts to Nu Wa's place of melting stone where she's supposed to mend the rent in Heaven,
and 00 from the stunned sky the autumn rains descend.
It journeys dreamily to the holy mountain, where the old Hag humbly lends her ears.
The aged fish leaps high above the waves, and the thinnest of dragons prances.
The tired Wu Gang, forgetting sleep, leans spellbound against the lunar cassia tree,
while steadily slanting dew drenches the chill Hare.
<End Formatted Translation>