Tune: The Moon over the West River
Like dreams pass world affairs untold,
How many autumns in our life are cold!
My corridor is loud with wind-blown leaves at night.
See my brows frown and hair turn white!
Of my poor wine few guests are proud;
The bright moon is oft veiled in cloud.
Who would enjoy with me the mid-autumn moon lonely?
Winecup in hand, northward I look only.
Tune: “Xi Jiang Yue”
Looking Up Northward
World affairs are but a big dream.
In life, how many times
can we enjoy the mid-autumn scene?
The rustling sound of leaves and wind
can be heard in the corridor at night.
Take a look at my temples and
brows of my eyes.
Few guests would want to come
when I can only offer cheap wine.
Clouds often come to obstruct
when the moon is bright.
With whom in mid-autumn can
I share one single night?
I look at the north side
with a sad feeling in my mind.
Mid-autumn at Huang-Chou
Human affairs are dreams.
Mortal life endures but a few autumns.
When the night falls on the veranda,
Leaves are already rustling in the wind.
Gaze at my eyebrows and my hair.
When wine is cheap, I am always sorry
That my guests are too few.
When the moon is full I regret
That she is often hidden by clouds.
Who will enjoy with me
The solitary night of mid-autumn?
Holding up my cup of heaven,
I look grievously toward the north.
（Yu Min-chuan 译）
The River Moon
The world is but a dream,
Thru life, how many soughs?
The night blows leaves to the beam,
And to my hair and brows.
I’ve few guests, low my wine.
The moon’s oft dimmed, no rays.
Mid-autumn! Who’ll share her shine?
Cup in hand, north I gaze.