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何日归家洗客袍？
银字笙调，
心字香烧。
流光容易把人抛，
红了樱桃，
绿了芭蕉。
Yi Jian Mei
– Sailing past Wu Jiang
My spring sorrow awaits wine to allay.
On the river a boat is rowing,
At the winehouse the flag is beckoning.
By the Qiuniang Ferry and on the Tainiang Bridge,
Fitful winds throw in commotion fitful rains.
When shall I be home again?
When the day comes, I shall lave my dress
Of my journey’s dust, once for all.
Then leisurely I shall tune my silvery reeds
And burn incense shaped like heart.
The rolling tide, alas, waits for none;
Anon the cherry rain shall be red,
Anon the banana shall be green.
（黄宏荃 译）
A Twig of Mume Blossoms
Jiang Jie
Can boundless grief be drowned in wine?
My boat tossed by waves high,
Streamers of wineshop fly.
The Farewell Ferry and the Beauty’s Bridge would pine:
Wind blows from hour to hour;
Rain falls shower by shower.
When may I go home to wash my old robe outworn,
To play on silver lute
And burn the incense mute?
Oh, time and tide will not wait for a man forlorn:
With cherry red spring dies,
When green banana sighs.
（许渊冲 译）
A Plum Twig Cut Off
Crossing over Wujiang by Boat
Jiang Jie
My boundless spring sadness waits to be expelled by the wine.
The boat is rocking on the river,
The wine flag is waving to the guest.
Passing through Qiu-maid Ferry and Tai-maid Bridge,
The wind is blowing hard time and again,
Falling endlessly is the vernal rain.
When shall I go back to wash my overcoat?
To play my Yinzi sheng the instrument,
And burn the incense in the shape of heart.
Time flies fast,
Man easily grows old.
After the cherries get redden,
The bananas soon turn green.
（朱曼华 译）
To The Tune One Winter-Sweet Sprig
Jiang Jie
O springtime welling woe of mine,
Is it to be drowned with abounding wine?
In the bosom of the rippling river the boat is rocking,
From the restaurants’ upper windows the streamers beck’ning.
The Qiu Maid Ferry is in no time left behind,
The Tai Maid Bridge ahead in sight you find.
As the wind for ever drifts and drifts,
So the rain at the same time drips and drips!
When’ll be a date for my traveller’s robe
To be taken off and washed at home,
My silver garnished reed-pipe be tuned again,
And heart-curve curly incense lighted then?
Alas, while days and nights are slipping away,
We folks are easily lost and out of the way.
There turning green the banana bush,
And dyeing crimson the cherry fruit.
（刘国善、王治江、徐树娟等 译）
P’u – I Chien Mei
Chiang Chieh
Such grief for spring possesses me it cries aloud for wine.
On the river boats are rocking,
From the shop an inn-sign beckons.
Down at the ford of Ch’iu Niang, at the bridge of T’ai Niang
Swirling gusts go whirling, twirling
Past the rain-shower’s whistling hiss.
When shall I reach home again and wash my travelling clothes,
Play upon the silver flute,
Light the heart-shaped frankincense?
Time flows on and quickly passes, leaving us behind:
Cherries, look, are flushed already,
Plantains boast a new-born green.
（Alan Ayling and Duncan Mackintosh 译）
