宋琬·《渔家词》英译

南阳之南峄山北，男子不耕女不织。

伐芦作屋沮洳间，天遣鱼虾为稼穑。

少妇能操舴艨舟，生儿酷似鸬鹚黑。

今秋无雨湖水涸，大鱼干死鲦鳅弱。

估客不来贱若泥，租吏到门势欲缚。

烹鱼酌酒幸无怒，泣向前村卖网罟。

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A Song of a Fisherman

Sung Wan

South of Nan-yang, north of Yi Mountain,

The man doesn’t till, the woman doesn’t weave.

They cut rushes, built a hut in marsh lands;

Heaven provided fish and shrimp for them to sow and reap.

The young wife can steer the small skiff;

Black as a cormorant is their small son.

No rain this autumn, and the lake is drying up;

Large fish strand and die, loach and dace grow weak.

Buyers for the market stay away, fish are cheap as mud;

But the tax collector comers with a power that binds.

They boil him fish, serve him wine, pray he won’t be angry,

And crying, to the village they go to sell their woven nets.

（William Schultz 译）