烈女操

孟郊

梧桐相待老， 鸳鸯会双死。

贞妇贵殉夫， 舍生亦如此。

波澜誓不起， 妾心井中水。

A SONG OF A PURE-HEARTED GIRL

Meng Jiao

 Lakka-trees ripen two by two And mandarin-ducks die side by side. If a true-hearted girl will love only her husband, In a life as faithfully lived as theirs, What troubling wave can arrive to vex A spirit like water in a timeless well?

游子吟

孟郊

慈母手中线， 游子身上衣。

临行密密缝， 意恐迟迟归。

谁言寸草心， 报得三春辉。

A TRAVELLER'S SONG

Meng Jiao

 The thread in the hands of a fond-hearted mother Makes clothes for the body of her wayward boy; Carefully she sews and thoroughly she mends, Dreading the delays that will keep him late from home. But how much love has the inch-long grass For three spring months of the light of the sun?

登幽州台歌

陈子昂

 前不见古人， 后不见来者。

念天地之悠悠， 独怆然而涕下。

ON A GATE-TOWER AT YUZHOU

Chen Ziang

 Where, before me, are the ages that have gone? And where, behind me, are the coming generations? I think of heaven and earth, without limit, without end, And I am all alone and my tears fall down.

古意

李颀

 男儿事长征， 少小幽燕客。

赌胜马蹄下， 由来轻七尺。

杀人莫敢前， 须如蝟毛磔。

黄云陇底白雪飞， 未得报恩不能归。

辽东小妇年十五， 惯弹琵琶解歌舞。

今为羌笛出塞声， 使我三军泪如雨。

AN OLD AIR

Li Qi

 There once was a man, sent on military missions, A wanderer, from youth, on the You and Yan frontiers. Under the horses' hoofs he would meet his foes And, recklessly risking his seven-foot body, Would slay whoever dared confront Those moustaches that bristled like porcupinequills. ...There were dark clouds below the hills, there were white clouds above them, But before a man has served full time, how can he go back? In eastern Liao a girl was waiting, a girl of fifteen years, Deft with a guitar, expert in dance and song. ...She seems to be fluting, even now, a reed-song of home, Filling every soldier's eyes with homesick tears.

送陈章甫

李颀

 四月南风大麦黄， 枣花未落桐叶长。

青山朝别暮还见， 嘶马出门思故乡。

陈侯立身何坦荡， 虬须虎眉仍大颡。

腹中贮书一万卷， 不肯低头在草莽。

东门酤酒饮我曹， 心轻万事皆鸿毛。

醉卧不知白日暮， 有时空望孤云高。

长河浪头连天黑， 津口停舟渡不得。

郑国游人未及家， 洛阳行子空叹息。

闻道故林相识多， 罢官昨日今如何。

A FAREWELL TO MY FRIEND CHEN ZHANGFU

Li Qi

 In the Fourth-month the south wind blows plains of yellow barley, Date-flowers have not faded yet and lakka-leaves are long. The green peak that we left at dawn we still can see at evening, While our horses whinny on the road, eager to turn homeward. ...Chen, my friend, you have always been a great and good man, With your dragon's moustache, tiger's eyebrows and your massive forehead. In your bosom you have shelved away ten thousand volumes. You have held your head high, never bowed it in the dust. ...After buying us wine and pledging us, here at the eastern gate, And taking things as lightly as a wildgoose feather, Flat you lie, tipsy, forgetting the white sun; But now and then you open your eyes and gaze at a high lone cloud. ...The tide-head of the lone river joins the darkening sky. The ferryman beaches his boat. It has grown too late to sail. And people on their way from Cheng cannot go home, And people from Loyang sigh with disappointment. ...I have heard about the many friends around your wood land dwelling. Yesterday you were dismissed. Are they your friends today?