<Header>
<Author: 李白>
<Title: 長干行二首 一>
<Format: 五言古詩>
<Year: 1919>
<BookName: Gems of Chinese Verse>
<Translator: W. J. B. Fletcher>
<TranslatedTitle: THAT PARTING AT CH'ANG KAN>
<BookPage: 8-9>
<UsedPage: 2>
<Feature: 1, 4>
<End Header>
<Poem>
妾髮初覆額，
折花門前劇。
郎騎竹馬來，
遶床弄青梅。
同居長干里，
兩小無嫌猜。
十四為君婦，
羞顏未嘗開。
低頭向暗壁，
千喚不一迴。
十五始展眉，
願同塵與灰。
常存抱柱信，
豈上望夫臺。
十六君遠行，
瞿塘灩澦堆。
五月不可觸，
猿聲天上哀。
門前遲行跡，
一一生綠苔。
苔深不能掃，
落葉秋風早。
八月胡蝶黃，
雙飛西園草。
感此傷妾心，
坐愁紅顏老。
早晚下三巴，
預將書報家。
相迎不道遠，
直至長風沙。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
When first o'er maiden brows my hair I tied,
   In sport I plucked the blooms before, the door.
You riding came on hobby-horse astride,
   And wreathed my bed with greengage branches o'er.
At Ch'ang-kan village long together dwelt
   We children twain, and knew no petty strife.
   At fourteen years lo! I became thy wife.
Yet ah! the modest shyness that I felt!
   My shame-faced head I in a corner hung;
Nor to long calling answered word of mine.
   At fifteen years my heart's gate open sprung,
And I were glad to mix my dust with thine.
   My troth to thee till death I keep for aye:
My eyes still gaze adoring on my lord.
   When I was but sixteen you went away.
In Chü-t’ang Gorge how Yen-yü's billows roared!
   For five long months with you I cannot meet.
The gibbon's wail reëchoes to the sky!
   Before the door, where stood your parting feet,
The prints with verdant moss are covered high.
   Deep is that moss! it will not brush away.
In early autumn's gale the leaflets fall.
   September now !—the butterflies so gay
Disport on grasses by our garden wall.
   The sight my heart disturbs with longing woe.
I sit and wail, my red cheeks growing old.
   Early and late I to the gorges go,
Waiting for news that of thy coming told.
   How short will seem the way, if we but meet!
   Across the sand the wind flies straight to greet.
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
When first o'er maiden brows my hair I tied,
In sport I plucked the blooms before, the door.
You riding came on hobby-horse astride,
And wreathed my bed with greengage branches o'er.
At Ch'ang-kan village long together dwelt
We children twain, and knew no petty strife.
At fourteen years lo! I became thy wife.
Yet ah! the modest shyness that I felt!
My shame-faced head I in a corner hung ;
Nor to long calling answered word of mine.
At fifteen years my heart's gate open sprung,
And I were glad to mix my dust with thine.
My troth to thee till death I keep for aye:
My eyes still gaze adoring on my lord.
When I was but sixteen you went away.
In Chü-t’ang Gorge how Yen-yü's billows roared !
For five long months with you I cannot meet.
The gibbon's wail reëchoes to the sky!
Before the door, where stood your parting feet,
The prints with verdant moss are covered high.
Deep is that moss! it will not brush away.
In early autumn's gale the leaflets fall.
September now !—the butterflies so gay
Disport on grasses by our garden wall.
The sight my heart disturbs with longing woe.
I sit and wail, my red cheeks growing old.
Early and late I to the gorges go,
Waiting for news that of thy coming told.
How short will seem the way, if we but meet!
Across the sand the wind flies straight to greet.
<End Formatted Translation>