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青海际。
睡觉寒灯里，
漏声断、
月斜窗纸。
自许封侯在万里。
有谁知，
鬓虽残，
心未死！
Palace Visited at Night
A Dream
Lu You
On snowy morning I hear flute on flute pell-mell.
Where did I dream? I know not well.
I seemed to see a flood of silent cavaliers
On the northern frontiers,
West of the Wild Geese Pass
By desert-side, alas!
Awake, I only find cold candlelight,
The water clock no longer goes,
At my paper window peeps the slanting moonlight.
I promised to win victory far away.
But, O, who knows?
My hope sinks dead, my hair turns grey.
（许渊冲、许明 译）
To the Tune of Yeh yu kung
Presented to Shih Pai-hun After Recalling a Dream
Lu Yu
A snow dawn –
As the Tartar pipe blares
Starting up here and there,
In my dream I travel to
An unknown place
Where armed cavalry
Without a sound
Move like rivulets of water.
I am reminded of a frontier river –
West of Goose Gate
Or perhaps the border of Ch’inghai.
I awake in the cold light
Of the lamp,
The water clock has stopped,
Moonlight slants through
The paper window.
It is my ambition
To achieve fame ten thousand miles away.
Understand me:
Even though my temples have faded,
My heart still yearns for glory!
（James P. Rice 译）
Ye You Gong
– Narration of a dream sent to Shi Bohun.
Lu You
At a snowy dawn shrill flutes resound throughout the plain
Where the iron-clad horses sweep down like torrent.
What place is it I see in dream? Isn’t it
Somewhere by Qinghai, to the west of Yanmen?
Anon from my dream I awake:
The lamp is still shedding its cold light
The water-clock has ceased its drippling ticks
And the slanting moon shines full upon the window.
Long have I promised myself the lordship
Ten thousand li away from home.
Who knows but that my heart
Still burns with youthful flame,
Though my hair is greying?
（黄宏荃 译）
Night Revels in the Palace
To Shi Bohun after Recalling a Dream
Lu You
Bugles blared all over at the break of a snowy day;
In my dream, I roamed –
Not knowing into where did I stray.
Like flowing water, noiselessly
advanced the cavalry in battle array.
I recalled the frontier passes and rivers
Bordering Qinghai,
West of the Yan Men Gateway.
To the cold light of lamp I awake:
The water clock has ceased dripping,
Through the window comes the slanting moon ray.
I long to become a nobleman by
imperial grant ten thousand miles away.
Who’d know?
My heart isn’t dead,
Though my temples have turned grey.
（何中坚 译）
