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���������������ꣿ �ҴҴ��ֹ�ȥ�� ϧ�����»����磬 �ο���������� ����ס�� ��˵�������ķ�����·�� Թ����� ��ֻ�����ڣ� ���������� �����Ƿ����� �����£� ��������� ��ü�����˶ʡ� ǧ���������縳�� ��������˭�ߣ� ��Ī�裬 ������������Գ����� �г���ࡣ ��ȥ��Σ���� б�����ڡ������ϳ����� Tune��Groping for Fish How can I bear Many a wind-and-rain's wear? So soon, the spring is bygone. I'd begrudge an early bloom For fear of the premature ending, But now all my eyes meet Are countless petals falling. Halt! I pray, as I Heard it said grasses have grown Too far for you spring to turn around. Despite my complaints, spring's mute. The only busybuddy is the spider Who weaves under the eaves a web To catch the drifting catkin day out and day in. The forsaken concubine Was disappointed at every expected date. Maybe her beautiful eyebrows caused all that. A thousand gold might buy an expressive composition But could never an impressive affection. Let no dancer go on blind, For even the queens who secured the most favor With their dances are now nothing but dust. Bitterest is the sentiment that finds no outlet. Never attempt to climb for a high view, For what can be seen is but the sun setting Behind a row of willows drowned in the sad evening mist.
�������ƿ������λش�����Ӫ�� �˰���������ˣ���ʮ�ҷ���������ɳ�������� ������¬�ɿ죬���������Ҿ��� ��ȴ���������£�Ӯ����ǰ������������������ Tune:Break The Formation With drunken eyes, in flickering light, inspect the sword, The horn's call still lingering from the camps of my dream. Ah! to carve an ox for the troops and listen to frontier songs rolling off a zither; And review the battalion on the battlefield in autumn. Steeds speed like lightening, And bows snap like cracks of thunder. When the work is done for the King and the country, One's name shall be at once renowned and set for posterity. Pity how the white hair has grown!
�е������ᡣ ����ȴ������ԧ���� ��ͷ�����Ŵ������ǡ� �ɼ�ʱ������˯�� ��Ҳû������ �ǿ����������Ϸ�� �����顢ȴ�������⡣ �ż����������֡� Tune: In Search of Fragrant Herbs So many teardrops do fall. Superfluous are the quilts that were requisites. Pillows can be placed anywhere, but nowhere is right. The distant family time, that is why I cannot sleep! Still not a single letter so far. I even have to take in the high taunts from the geese. They bring no letters but evoke what I expect from the far. Wings spread to form one figure after another.
����ҹ�Ż�ǧ���������䡢�����ꡣ ����������·�� ���������������ת��һҹ�����衣 ���ѩ���ƽ��ƣ�Ц��ӯӯ����ȥ�� ����Ѱ��ǧ�ٶȡ� ��Ȼ���ף�����ȴ�ڣ��ƻ���ɺ���� The Lantern Festival Lanterns look like thousands of flowers aglow; Later like stars, from the skies, fallen below. On main streets, horses and carriages ply. There, ladies shed perfume, as they pass by. Orchestral music and song greet our ears, As the moon, slow and steady, eastward veers. Of the Spring Festival, this night marks the end. The whole night, capering, carps and dragons spend. Adorned with ribbons or paper flowers on their head, Clad in their best raiment, something bright or red, Women squeeze their way among the festive crowd, As they talk and laugh; even giggle aloud. Rouged and powdered; perfumed to their heart's content, They cannot but leave behind a subtle scent. Up and down the main streets, I must have run�� A thousand times or more in quest of one, Who I have concluded, cannot be found; For, everywhere, no trace of her can be seen, When, all of a sudden, I turned about, That's her, where lanterns are few and far between.