春望 chūn wàng 56
translations
國破山河在 guó pò shān hé zài, dzhə̌i e
d L L r
城春草木深 chéng chūn cǎo mù
shēn. shim L L r e L
感時花濺淚 gǎn shí huā jiàn lèi, luì r L L d d
恨別鳥驚心 hèn bié niǎo jīng
xīn. sim d e r L L
烽火連三月 fēng huǒ lián sān
yuè, ngiuæt L r L L e
家書抵萬金 jiā shū dǐ wàn
jīn. gyim L L r d L
白頭搔更短 bái tóu sāo gèng duǎn, duɑ̌n e L L d r
渾欲不勝簪 hún yù bù shèng zān. jrim L e e L L
Rhyme ABCBDBEB
Chang, Edward C. (www.poetry-chinese.com) (literal)
Spring View
country ruined mountain & river remain
city in springtime grass & trees grow deep
facing hard times flowers trigger tears
hating separation birds startle my heart
beacon fires last for three months
a letter from home worth ten thousand gold coins
white hair shorter the more I scratch
it simply can't bear a hairpin
Ditmanson, Peter (www.colby.edu/personal/p/pbditman/151/DuFu.doc) (literal)
Spring
Scene (Spring Prospect)
state broken mtn river remains
city spring grass
tree deep
feel time flower splash tears
hate separate birds alarm heart
beacon fires endure three months
home letter cost 10,000 gold
white head scratch even less
whole soon not equal to hatpin
Hawkes, David A Little Primer of Tu Fu (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1967)
(literal)
Spring Scene
State ruined mountains-rivers survive.
City spring grass-trees thick.
Moved-by times flowers sprinkle tears.
Hating separation birds startle heart.
Beacon-fires have-continued-for three months.
Home-letter worth ten-thousand taels .
White hair scratch even shorter.
Quite will-be unequal-to hatpin.
“nooriginalthought” (home.earthlink.net/~nooriginalthought/Chinese_Poetry.html)
(literal)
Spring View
country
shattered mountain river in/at/on
city spring
grass tree deep/thick
feelings
time flower splash/spill tears
hate
separation bird startle heart
beacon fire
unite three month
family document
against ten-thousand gold
white head
scratch more short
entire
desire not adequate hair/hatpin
Yip,
Wai-lim, ed. Chinese Poetry: Major
Modes and Genres (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1976) (literal)
Spring
Scene
empire broken mountain/s river exist;
remain
city spring grass trees thick; deep
feel times flowers splash tears
hate;
distressed by separation bird/s startle heart
beacon fire/s continue three month/s
home letter equal/s ten-thousand taels
white head scratch even short/er
simply - not able-to-hold pin
Yu, Pauline
(afe.easia.columbia.edu/china/lit/spring.htm)
(literal)
Spring Gaze
Nation
broken mountain river exist
City-wall spring
grass tree deep
Feel times
flower sprinkle tears
Hate
parting bird alarm heart
Beacon fire
consecutive three month
Family
letter worth ten-thousand gold-pieces
White hair
scratch more short
Quite
about-to not bear hairpin
anonymous (www.chinese-poems.com) (literal)
Spring View
Country
damaged mountains rivers here
City spring
grass trees deep
Feel moment
flower splash tears
Regret
parting bird startle heart
Beacon
fires join three months
Family
letters worth ten thousand metal
White head
scratch become thin
Virtually
about to not bear hairpin
unknown (titohost.itbdns.com/chinese-poet/chinese%20poem-1/1-8l5w.htm) (literal)
Advent of Spring
nation torn mountain& river exist-same-way
city spring & grass& tree thick
feeling hard-time flower pour tear
hate separation bird terrify heart
signal-fire connect three month
family letter deserve numerous gold
white head scratch shorter
all want not withstand hairpin
Alley, Rewi
Tu Fu: Selected Poems (Peking:
Foreign Languages Press, 1964)
Spring — the Long View
Even though a state is crushed
Its hills and streams remain;
Now inside the walls of Changan
Grasses rise high among unpruned trees;
Seeing flowers come, a flood
Of sadness overwhelms me; cut off
As I am, songs of birds stir
My heart; third month and still
Beacon fires flare as they did
Last year; to get news
From home would be worth a full
Thousand pieces of gold;
Trying to knot up my hair
I find it grey, too thin
For my pin to hold it together.
Alley, Rewi
Peace Through the Ages: Translations
from the Poets of
Looking out on Spring
Though our country has been crushed
rivers and hills stay the same; the city
is filled with tall trees and the high
grasses of spring; even the flowers seem to shed
tears for the sadness of our time, and birds
grieve at the sight of people
parting from their beloved;
now
for these three months
have the beacon fires
flared unceasingly
while a letter from home is as precious
as gold
and when I strive to bind up
my grey hairs, they are so few
the pin will not hold them.
Ayscough,
Spring –
Looking into the Distance
The state
is destroyed; hills, rivers, remain;
Spring:
within the city wall, grass, trees, are thick.
Emotion,
fitting to the season; flowers bring a rush of tears;
I hate
being cut apart; the song of birds quickens my heart.
Beacon
fires burn incessantly; their flames connect this third moon with that of last
year;
A letter
from home would be worth ten thousand ounces of gold.
I scratch
my white head; the hair is shorter than ever;
It is
matted; I should like to knot it, but cannot succeed in thrusting through the
jade hairpin.
Barnstone,
Tony & Chou Ping (www.7beats.com/2006_12_01_7beats_archive.html))
Gazing in Springtime
The empire is shattered but rivers and peaks remain.
Spring drowns the city in wild grass and trees.
A time so bad, even the flower rain tears.
I hate this separation, yet birds startle my heart.
The signal fires have burned three months;
I'd give ten thousand gold coins for one letter.
I scratch my head and my white hair thins
till it can't even hold a pin.
Brownrigg, Ray (www.mcs.vuw.ac.nz/~ray/ChineseEssays)
Spring Outlook
Nation fallen, yet nature’s alive,
The city; spring trees and grasses thrive.
For these sad times the flowers they weep,
Being apart, birds stir me deep.
The war flames they’ll span three months soon;
Home news is worth a small fortune.
My white hair torn out in vain,
Soon not to hold even a pin.
Brownrigg, Ray (www.mcs.vuw.ac.nz/~ray/ChineseEssays)
Spring Outlook
Nation fallen, yet nature’s alive,
The city in spring; grass and trees bloom.
For these sad times, the flowers they weep,
Being apart, birds deepen my gloom.
These war flames ere will span three months;
Home news is worth a small fortune.
My white hair is torn out in vain,
’Twill hold not e’en a hairpin soon.
Bynner,
Witter The
A Spring View
Though a country be sundered, hills and rivers endure; And spring comes green again to trees and grasses
Where petals have been shed like tears
And lonely birds have sung their grief.
…After the war-fires of three months,
One message from home is worth a ton of gold.
…I stroke my hair. It has grown too thin
To hold the hairpins any more.
Chang, Edward C. (www.poetry-chinese.com)
Spring View
The country is ruined; / the mountains and rivers remain.
Springtime in the city, / grass and trees are densely green.
Facing hard times, / flowers trigger my tears;
fearing separation, / birds startle my heart.
Beacon fires / last for three consecutive months.
A letter from home / is worth ten thousand gold coins.
Ah, my gray hair / gets too thin to scratch.
It simply / can no longer hold a hairpin!
Chou, Eva
Shan Reconsidering Tu Fu: Literary
Greatness and Cultural Context (Cambridge, Eng.: Cambridge University
Press, 1995)
Spring
Prospect
The state
has fallen, mountains and rivers endure,
Spring in
the city, grasses and trees grow thick,
I am moved
by the times, flowers bring on tears,
My sorrow
at separation, birds startle the heart.
Beacon fire
have burned for three months on end,
A letter
from home would be worth its weight in gold
My white
hairs even shorter now from tugging
Soon will
not take even a hatpin.
Cooper,
Arthur R. V. Li Po and Tu Fu
(Harmondsworth, Eng.: Penguin Books, 1973)
Looking at
the Springtime
In fallen
States hills and streams are found,
Cities have
Spring, grass and leaves abound;
Though at
such times flowers might drop tears,
Parting
from mates, birds have hidden fears:
The beacon
fires have now linked three moons,
Making home
news worth ten thousand coins;
An old grey
head scratched at each mishap
Has
dwindling hair, does not fit its cap!
Davis, A.
R. Tu Fu (New York: Twayne
Publishers, 1971)
Spring
Yearning
The country
is destroyed but hills and rivers remain;
In the
city, spring, with trees and plants thick.
In sorrow
at the time, the flowers are splashed with tears;
In grief at
separation, the birds alarm the heart.
Beacon
fires have linked three months;
Family
letters are worth ten thousand pieces.
My white
hair, through scratching, is still shorter;
It very
nearly fails to support my hairpin.
Ditmanson, Peter (www.colby.edu/personal/p/pbditman/151/DuFu.doc)
Spring
Scene (Spring Prospect)
The state is destroyed, but mountains and rivers remain.
The city is in spring, the grass and trees are deep.
Sensing the times, the flowers are splashed with tears.
Hating to part, the birds alarm the heart (mine or theirs?).
Beacon fires burn continuously for three months.
A letter from home is worth 10,000 pieces of gold.
My white hair grows even thinner from scratching.
Soon all of it will be unable to hold up a hatpin.
“Dongbo” (www.mountainsongs.net/poem_.php?id=202)
Spring Outlook
Nation shattered, mountains and rivers remain,
City spring, grass and trees flourish.
Sensing the times, flowers splattered with tears,
Hating separation, birds fill me with longing.
Beacon fires, three months running,
Letters from home worth a thousand pieces of gold.
White head scratched even more thin,
Almost too thin to hold my hairpin.
Fletcher, W. J. B. (www.poetic.com.cn/go.asp?id=21981&ttt=)
The Hope of Spring
A nation though fallen, the land yet remains.
When Spring fills the City, its foliage is dense.
In grief for the times, a tear the flower stains.
In woe for such parting, the birds fly from thence.
For three months unceasing the bale fires now flare.
A letter from home costs a fortune to bring.
These worries scratch off my last falling grey hair.
My own foolish wishes my pen cannot wing.
Harris, Paul in Constantine, David and Helen, eds. Modern Poetry in Translation (Series 3 No.7) Love and War
A Scene in Spring
The state is torn apart, only the mountains and rivers remain.
Weeds and trees run rampant in the city this spring.
Do the flowers sense the times, that they, like me, should weep?
Do the birds feel the emptiness, they seem so fearful?
For three months on end the garrison beacons have glimmered at night.
A letter from home would be worth a heap of gold to me,
An old man waiting, whose remaining white hairs
Will soon become too sparse even to hold a hat pin.
Hart, Henry H. The Charcoal Burner, and Other Poems; Original Translations from the Poetry of the Chinese (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1974)
War
Though a country is ravished,
The mountains and rivers remain.
Though the grass and the trees are dense,
At such times the very flowers
Seem to weep.
And with hearts full of woe
The birds take to flight.
For three long months without ceasing
The beacon fires burn.
Letters from home
Cost countless coins to send.
My white hair grows thin with care,
And my pen cannot master
My thoughts so confused.
Hawkes, David A Little Primer of Tu Fu (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1967)
Spring Scene
The state may fall, but the hills and streams remain. It is spring in the city: grass and leaves grow thick. The flowers shed tears of grief for the troubled times, and the birds seem startled, as if with the anguish of separation. For three months continuously the beacon-fires have been burning. A letter from home would be worth a fortune. My white hair is getting so scanty from worried scratching that soon there won’t be enough to stick my hatpin in!
Hung, William Tu Fu: China’s Greatest Poet (New York: Harvard University Press, 1952)
Look at
Spring!
The nation
is shattered. Only the landscape remains.
Spring in
the city? Yes, unpruned trees and
overgrown weeds.
Flowers are
watered with tears of discouragement,
Birds sing
heartbreaking songs of separation.
Beacon
fires of battle have been burning for months.
A letter
from home would be worth a fabulous fortune!
As I
scratch my scanty white hair, more falls;
It is
almost too thin to hold a hairpin.
Jones, Jill (itudes.blogspot.com/2006/08/prospect-of-spring-du-fu.html)
A Prospect of Spring
The country’s been broken, see, only hills and rivers.
In the city here’s the lush growth of spring.
These times are splashed with tears before flowers.
Grieved at parting, birds startle the heart.
Beacons have been burning for three whole months.
Any letter from home is worth ten thousand gold.
I’ve scratched my white hair so thin
It can’t hold even a hairpin in place.
Kline, A. S. (www.tonykline.co.uk)
Spring in Ch’ang-an
Fallen States still have hills and streams.
Cities, in Spring, have leaves and grass.
Though tears well at half-open flowers.
Though parted birds rise with secret fears.
War beacons shine through triple moons.
Home news is worth more than gold.
Grey hairs, tugged at every disaster,
Thin on this head that’s too small for its cap.
Kwock, C. C. and McHugh, Vincent (www.zftrans.com/bbs/simple/index.php?t3405_8.html)
Spring Prospect
My country in ruins
Hills
Remain
Rivers
Spring coming to the city
The grass grow tall
These sad days even the flowers wet with dewy tears
When I grieve at our separation even a bird can startle me
Fighting goes on and on these first three months
A letter from home worth ten thousand pieces of gold
The more I scratch my white hair
The shorter it gets --almost too short to hold a hair pin!
Li Weijian and Weng Xianliang 李惟建，翁显良 (www.poetic.com.cn/go.asp?id=21981&ttt=)
Spring View
The country torn apart, what though the mountains and rivers are as before?
And the greenery – too profuse for a city in spring.
Grieving over the times, the flowers are bedewed with tears.
Loath to part, the birds are stricken to the heart.
War has been blazing for three months;
A letter from home is worth ten thousand pieces of gold.
My white head cannot bear scratching,
The hair already too thin to hold a pin.
McCraw, David R. Du Fu's Laments from the South (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1992)
Spring View
The state’s
sundered, alps & rivers remain;
The citadel
vernates, grasses & trees deepen.
Moved by
the times, flowers spurt tears;
Hating
separation, a bird alarms the heart.
Signal
fires – continuous three months;
Family
letters- worth a myriad in gold.
My whitened
hair, scratched ever shorter,
Is just
about unable to support its hatpin.
Murphy, James R. (http://www.torusflex.com/poetry%20project1/poetry.html)
Spring scene
though the nation is broken apart
the mountains remain and the rivers still run
the city in spring is deep with grasses
and the trees have filled with leaves
but in feeling this momentous time
there are tears which sprinkle the flowers
this wrong feeling intrudes, is resented
the birds as they twitter shock the heart
for three months now, continually
the beacon fires have been ablaze
i would give almost anything for a letter from home
even ten thousand in gold if i had it
my old white head is scratched and snatched
the hair is wimpy and short, thinner
i go to pin it up with my hat pin
and i can barely manage to make it stick
Nee Wen-yei
(www.chinapage.com/poem105.html)
Advent of
Spring
The city
has fallen: only the hills and rivers remain.
In Spring the
streets were green with grass and trees.
Sorrowing
over the times, the flowers are weeping.
The birds
startled my heart in fear of departing.
The beacon
fires were burning for three months,
A letter
from home was worth ten thousand pieces of gold.
I scratch
the scant hairs on my white head,
And vainly
attempt to secure them with a hairpin.
“nooriginalthought” (home.earthlink.net/~nooriginalthought/Chinese_Poetry.html)
Spring View
The nation in shambles, yet the hills and rivers remain.
The city in Spring, yet overgrown with weeds and brush.
Such emotional times that flowers spill tears,
Separation is so troubling that the call of birds stir the soul.
Beacon fires have continued for three months,
A letter from home would be worth uncountable gold.
White hair scratched so thin with worry,
That with all my willpower, it will not hold a hatpin.
“orchid_dreams”
(www.chinahistoryforum.com/lofiversion/index.php/t14104.html)
Spring Outlook
Although the country's torn apart, rivers and mountains still stand there
The spring arrives and shrubs and grass grow around the city walls
Where touched flowers shed tears
And lonely birds break their heart
The war-fires have carried on for three months
And a letter from home is worth tons of gold
My white hair have been scratched so short
That it can not bear a hairpin anymore
Owen,
Stephen, ed. An Anthology of
Chinese Literature: Beginnings to 1911 (New York: W.W. Norton, 1996)
The View in
Spring
A kingdom smashed, its hills and rivers still here,
spring in the city, plants and trees grow deep.
Moved by the moment, flowers splash with tears,
alarmed at parting, birds startle the heart.
War’s beacon fires have gone on three months,
letters from home are worth thousands in gold.
Fingers run through white hair until it thins,
cap-pins will almost no longer hold.
Rouzer, Paul (www.columbia.edu/itc/eacp/asiasite/topics/index.html?topic=DuFu+subtopic=One)
View in Springtime
The country is smashed, hills and rivers remain.
The city turns to Spring, plants and trees grow deep.
Moved by the moment, flowers splash tears.
Resentful of parting, birds startle the heart.
Beacon fires have lasted for three months now.
Letters from home are worth 10,000 in gold.
I've scratched my white hairs ever scarcer,
until none will be left to hold hairpins to head.
Scott, Sedulia
(sedulia.blogs.com/sedulias_translations/war_conflict_problems)
Spring
Outlook
Nations are smashed,
mountains and rivers remain.
A deeply felt time-- tears splash on the flowers.
The ache of leaving--birds startle my heart.
The beacons have been lit for three months running.
A letter from home is worth ten thousand in gold.
My white hair has been torn even shorter,
and can scarcely hold my hairpin.
Snyder,
Spring View
The nation
is ruined, but mountains and rivers
remain.
This spring
the city is deep in weeds and
brush.
Touched by
the times even flowers weep tears.
Fearing
leaving the birds tangled hearts.
Watch-tower
fires have been
burning for three months
To get a
note from home would cost ten
thousand gold.
Scratching
my white hair thinner
Seething
hopes all in a trembling hairpin.
Wang Yushu Selected
Poems and Pictures of the Tang Dynasty (
A Spring Sight
The nation split, as e’er mounts and rivers remain.
In spring, the city is o’ergrown with grass and trees.
Current events have drawn forth my tears on flowers to rain;
And birds stir my parting pain to spoil my heart’s ease.
For full three months flames of war have kept on burning;
Home letters are as dear as ten thousand guineas.
Hard scratching has made my hoary hairs thinner turning.
No longer can they hold my hairpins as I please.
Watson,
Spring
Prospect
The nation
shattered, mountains and river remain;
city in
spring, grass and trees burgeoning.
Feeling the
times, blossoms draw tears;
hating
separation, birds alarm the heart.
Beacon
fires three months in succession,
a letter
from home worth ten thousand in gold.
White
hairs, fewer for the scratching,
soon too
few to hold a hairpin up.
Willbond,
William H. A. (iwvpa.net/willbondwha/spring_h.php)
Spring Hope
Country
destroyed mountains and rivers remain in the town the grasses
And spring
hedges are deep
Feel time
flowers tears, hate separation birds frighten my heart
Beacon
fires continued for 3 months, family letter worth 10,000 gold
White head
scratch become short, desire want almost impossible insert hairpin
Wu Juntao 吴钧陶 (www.poetic.com.cn/go.asp?id=21981&ttt=)
A Spring View
As ever are hills and rills while the Kingdom crumbles,
When springtime comes over the Capital the grass scrambles.
Blossoms invite my tears as in wild times they bloom;
The flitting birds stir my heart that I’m parted from home.
For three months the beacon fires soar and burn the skies.
A family letter is worth ten thousand gold in price.
I scratch my head, and my grey hair has grown too thin
It seems, to bear the weight of the jade clasp and pin.
Xie Wentong 谢文通 (www.poetic.com.cn/go.asp?id=21981&ttt=)
A View in Spring
Hill and valley survive a country broken,
Grass and trees grow deep in a town in spring.
Affected by events the flowers shed tears;
Who mourn separation start to hear birds sing.
Beacons have flamed for three months running, hence
Letters from home are worth their weight in gold.
A white head scratched its hairs grow less
Till hairpins simply lose their hold.
Xu Yuanchong 许渊冲 (www.poetic.com.cn/go.asp?id=21981&ttt=)
Spring View
On war-torn land streams flow and mountains stand;
In towns unquiet grass and weeds run riot.
Grieved over the years, flowers are moved to tears;
Seeing us part, birds cry with broken heart.
The beacon fire has gone higher and higher,
Words from household are worth their weight in gold
I cannot bear to scratch my grizzled hair;
It grows too thin to hold a light hair pin.
Xu Zhongjie 徐忠杰 (www.poetic.com.cn/go.asp?id=21981&ttt=)
Spring: a Dismal Prospect
Though the country is broken up by the war,
Rivers and hills exist, as they did before.
To the city has come midspring every where.
Vegetation has grown rank for lack of care.
Current affairs are entailing distress and fears.
The sight of flowers is enough to bring up my tears.
My family and I have been long apart,
Chirrups and twitters of birds affect my heart.
Three months of bloody war has held up the mail.
A note from home is worth ten thousand gold tael.
From being scratched, my white hair becomes so thin –
That there remains no anchorage for a pin.
Yip,
Wai-lim, ed. Chinese Poetry: Major
Modes and Genres (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1976)
Spring
Scene
All ruins,
the empire; mountains and rivers in view.
To the
city, spring: grass and trees are thick.
The times
strike. Before flowers, tears break loose.
Separation
cuts. Birds startle our heart.
Beacon
fires continued for three months on end.
A letter
from home is worth thousands of gold pieces.
White hair,
scratched, becomes thinner and thinner,
So thin it
can hardly hold a pin.
Yu, Pauline
(afe.easia.columbia.edu/china/lit/spring.htm)
Spring Gaze
The country
shattered, mountains and river remain.
Spring in
the city - grass and trees are dense.
Feeling the
times, flowers draw forth tears;
Hating to
part, birds alarm the heart.
Beacon
fires for three months in a row;
A letter
from home worth ten thousand in gold.
White hairs
scratched grow even shorter -
Soon too
few to hold a hairpin on.
Zhang Bingxing, trans. 100
Best Chinese Classical Poems (
Spring
Outlook
My country
is broken, independent no more,
though
mountains and rivers remain the same as before.
In the
spring the city is overgrown with grass,
and appears
desolate, therefore.
Thinking of
the political situation,
I can’t
help weeping all the more,
even when I
see flowers in full bloom.
Hating
separation, I shake with fright,
even when I
hear birds sing with all their might.
Flames of
battle have raged for three months and more;
A letter
from home is a priceless treasure.
The more I
scratch my gray hair,
scarce it
becomes the more,
and the
harder it can bear the clasp on my hair.
Zhang Tingchen and Wei Bosi 张廷琛、魏博思
(www.poetic.com.cn/go.asp?id=21981&ttt=)
Spring Perspective
The nation has fallen, the land endures:
Spring trees and grasses flourish in the town.
Troubled by the times – flowers bring tears;
Dreading parting – birds startle the soul.
With turmoil of battle three months on end,
A letter from home is worth a fortune in gold.
Scratching these white locks makes them even thinner;
As it is, they can barely hold a pin.
Zhang
Xueqing 章学清 (www.poetic.com.cn/go.asp?id=21981&ttt=)
A Vision of Spring
A wilderness of hills and rills since Changan's fall:
The city's spring is rank with shrubs and grasses tall.
In times so hard, the flowers brim with tears indeed;
No kin in company, the hearts of birds do bleed.
The third month of another year, drags on the war;
A letter just from home does match a precious store.
I scratch my head to find the hoary hair so thin
That I'm afraid it would no longer bear a pin.
anonymous (www.chinese-poems.com)
Spring View
The country
is broken, though hills and rivers remain,
In the city
in spring, grass and trees are thick.
Moved by
the moment, a flower's splashed with tears,
Mourning
parting, a bird startles the heart.
The beacon
fires have joined for three months now,
Family
letters are worth ten thousand pieces.
I scratch
my head, its white hairs growing thinner,
And barely
able now to hold a hairpin.
unknown (newman.baruch.cuny.edu/digital/2000/c_n_c/c_07_romanticism/chinese_lyric.htm)
Spring Prospect
The nation shattered, hills and streams
remain.
The city in spring, grass and trees deep:
feeling the times, flowers draw tears;
hating separation, birds alarm the heart.
Beacon fires three months running,
a letter from home worth ten thousand in gold--
white hairs, fewer for the scratching,
soon too few to hold a hairpin up.
unknown (titohost.itbdns.com/chinese-poet/chinese%20poem-1/1-8l5w.htm)
Advent of Spring
Though the nation was torn, mountains and rivers exist the same way.
The city is in spring, and grasses and trees are thick.
When I feel the hard times, even into flower I pour tears.
When I hate separation, even at a bird I terrify my heart.
Signal fires have connected for three months.
Letters from home deserve ten thousand gold.
As for my white head, if I scratch it, the hairs become shorter.
All of them want not to withstand the hairpins.
unknown (www.chinahistoryforum.com/lofiversion/index.php/t4083.html)
Spring
Prospect
The country
is devastated but the mountains and rivers remain,
The city in
spring, the grass and trees grow deep.
Feeling
sorrow of the times, the flowers splashes tears.
Hating to
part, birds startle the heart.
Beacon
fires burn three months consecutively,
A letter
from home is worth ten thousand in gold.
My white
hairs scratched ever more shorter,
Soon will
be too few to hold a hairpin on.
unknown (www2.njnu.edu.cn/tangshi/group3.htm)
Spring View
The country rent, mountains still tower;
Spring come on earth, rank grass runs riot.
Grieved at the times, I weep o'er flower;
Hearing birds wail, I feel unquiet.
For three long months war flames outspread;
Letters from home dearer than gold.
I scratch and hair comes off my head,
The rest could not my hairpin hold.