A DREAM ON THE NIGHT OF THE 20TH DAY OF THE 1ST MOON 1075
For ten long years the living of the dead knows nought,
Though to my mind not brought,
Could the dead be forgot?
Her lonely grave is far, a thousand miles away.
To whom can I my grief convey?
Revived even if she be, could she still know me?
My face is worn with care,
And frosted is my hair.
Last night I dreamed of coming to my native place;
She was making up her face
Before her mirror with grace.
Each saw the other hushed,
But from our eyes tears gushed.
Can I not be heart-broken when I am awoken
From her grave clad with pines,
Where only the moon shines!
乙卯正月二十日夜記夢(mèng)
十年生死兩茫茫,
不思量,
自難忘。
千里孤墳,
無處話凄涼。
縱使相逢應(yīng)不識(shí):
塵滿面,
鬢如霜。
夜來幽夢(mèng)忽還鄉(xiāng),
小軒窗,
正梳妝。
相顧無言,
唯有淚千行。
料得年年腸斷處,
明月夜,
短松岡。