<Header>
<Author: 李頎>
<Title: 聽安萬善吹觱篥歌>
<Format: 七言古詩>
<Year: 1944>
<BookName: A FURTHER SELECTION FROM THE THREE HUNDRED POEMS OF THE T'ANG DYNASTY>
<Translator: SOAME JENYNS>
<TranslatedTitle: Ode on Listening to An Wan-shan playing on the Reed Instrument>
<BookPage: 28-29>
<UsedPage: 2>
<Feature: 4>
<End Header>
<Poem>
南山截竹爲觱篥，
此樂本自龜茲出。
流傳漢地曲轉奇，
涼州胡人爲我吹。
傍鄰聞者多歎息，
遠客思鄉皆淚垂。
世人解聽不解賞，
長飆風中自來往。
枯桑老柏寒颼飀，
九雛鳴鳳亂啾啾。
龍吟虎嘯一時發，
萬籟百泉相與秋。
忽然更作漁陽摻，
黃雲蕭條白日暗。
變調如聞楊柳春，
上林繁花照眼新。
歲夜高堂列明燭，
美酒一杯聲一曲。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
ON the southern hill a bamboo is cut to make a flageolet.
This instrument originally came from Kuei-tzŭ;
But entering Chinese territory it took on a strange note.
To-day a Mongol from Liang Chou makes music for me to hear
My neighbours listen; many of them sigh
Those who are exiles think of their homes and shed tears.
The world can listen but few are able to appreciate,
(For the music conjures up) the whirlwind that comes and goes
(Or visions) of the dead mulberry and the old cypress soughing in the cold blast;
(One hears) the nine fledgelings of the phœnix cheeping pitifully,
The dragon booms and the tigers roars; all in chorus.
A thousand noises of nature in the music of a hundred springs in autumn;
Suddenly the music changes to the lament of "Yü-yang."
Desolate yellow clouds obscure the bright day.
Again the music alters and one listens to the "Willows in Spring."
Or "Plum Blossom in the Imperial Gardens."
On New Year's Eve the high hall is lit with bright lanterns,
A cup of good wine in my hand and this music to listen to.
<End Translation>