<Header>
<Author: 韓愈>
<Title: 八月十五夜贈張功曹>
<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: On the 15th evening of the 8th month presented to Chang the Keeper of the Records (in a provincial yamen)>
<BookPage: 39-40>
<UsedPage: 2>
<Feature: 1, 4>
<End Header>
<Poem>
纖雲四卷天無河，
清風吹空月舒波。
沙平水息聲影絕，
一桮相屬君當歌。
君歌聲酸辭且苦，
不能聽終淚如雨。
洞庭連天九疑高，
蛟龍出沒猩鼯號。
十生九死到官所，
幽居默默如藏逃。
下牀畏蛇食畏藥，
海氣濕蟄熏腥臊。
昨者州前搥大鼓，
嗣皇繼聖登夔臯。
赦書一日行萬里，
罪從大辟皆除死。
遷者追廻流者還，
滌瑕蕩垢清朝班。
州家申名使家抑，
坎軻祗得移荆蠻。
判司卑官不堪說，
未免捶楚塵埃間。
同時輩流多上道，
天路幽險難追攀。
君歌且休聽我歌，
我歌今與君殊科。
一年明月今宵多，
人生由命非由他。
有酒不飲奈明何。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
DELICATE clouds roll up and disappear
The sky is so bright that you cannot see the Milky Way;
A pure wind blows through the empty heavens, 
The rays of the moon are scattered o'er the waves;
Murmur and shadow fade away on quiet sands and still waters.
One cup of wine we will drink together
Then you shall sing a song;
The lilt of your song is melancholy and the phrases full of bitter thoughts,
One cannot listen to the end before the tears fall like rain.
The Tung-t'ing (lake) stretches away to the sky,
The Chiu-i mountain is high;
Crocodiles and dragons come and go, apes and vampires cry,
Nine out of ten die before reaching this official post.
In squalid dark houses we hide ourselves,
When we left our beds we were frightened of snakes, 
When we eat we were frightened of poison;
The summer air from the sea was damp and pestiferous, 
The smells rank and rancid.
But there came a day when before the yamen they beat the big drum;
A new emperor had succeeded to the sacred line 
And had elevated loyal servants.
An amnesty travels a thousand miles in a single day;
Those under sentence of death need not die,
The exiled ones were recalled, 
The banished could return home.
All stains and impurities were to be things of the past 
The new emperor opens a bright new page,
Our senior officials suggest our names, his seniors suppress them;
Frustrated, what is left for us but to move to yet more barbaric surroundings?
Our present post is small and not to be spoken of,
How can we avoid being trampled and buffeted as we lie in the dust?
Most of our contemporaries follow the road back to official success,
But that road is dark and dangerous and hard to attain.
Your song—come stop it, 
Listen to my song.
My sentiments are very different from yours,
Of all the full moons in the year to-night's is the brightest.
Man from birth is governed by fate, and nothing else,
If you have wine and do not drink it 
Will to-morrow be any the better?
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
DELICATE clouds roll up and disappear The sky is so bright that you cannot see the Milky Way;
A pure wind blows through the empty heavens, The rays of the moon are scattered o'er the waves;
Murmur and shadow fade away on quiet sands and still waters.
One cup of wine we will drink together
Then you shall sing a song; The lilt of your song is melancholy and the phrases full of bitter thoughts,
One cannot listen to the end before the tears fall like rain.
The Tung-t'ing (lake) stretches away to the sky, The Chiu-i mountain is high;
Crocodiles and dragons come and go, apes and vampires cry,
Nine out of ten die before reaching this official post.
In squalid dark houses we hide ourselves,
When we left our beds we were frightened of snakes, When we eat we were frightened of poison;
The summer air from the sea was damp and pestiferous, The smells rank and rancid.
But there came a day when before the yamen they beat the big drum;
A new emperor had succeeded to the sacred line And had elevated loyal servants.
An amnesty travels a thousand miles in a single day;
Those under sentence of death need not die,
The exiled ones were recalled, The banished could return home.
All stains and impurities were to be things of the past The new emperor opens a bright new page,
Our senior officials suggest our names, his seniors suppress them;
Frustrated, what is left for us but to move to yet more barbaric surroundings?
Our present post is small and not to be spoken of,
How can we avoid being trampled and buffeted as we lie in the dust?
Most of our contemporaries follow the road back to official success,
But that road is dark and dangerous and hard to attain.
Your song—come stop it, Listen to my song.
My sentiments are very different from yours,
Of all the full moons in the year to-night's is the brightest.
Man from birth is governed by fate, and nothing else,
If you have wine and do not drink it Will to-morrow be any the better?
<End Formatted Translation>