Song of a Southern Country
To Governor Xu on Mountain-Climbing Day
The tide flows out after the fall of frost,
From rippling green water a beach of sand will rise.
The soughing wind softens, the vigor of wine is lost,
When blows the breeze,
My sympathetic hat won’t leave my head with ease.
How shall we pass the holiday?
Wine cup in hand, we may send autumn away.
Everything will end in dreams,
Tomorrow fallen blooms will sadden butterflies.
On the Double Ninth Festival at Hanhui Pavilion
(to the tune of Nanxiangzi)
By Frost’s descent the water level falls
To shallows glittering like clear scales, disclosing sands,
The way wine’s powers slowly leave the mind to a light wind,
Rustling my worn-out hat full off tenderness, that loves my head.
How can I honor a special, festival time?
I’ve only this cup of wine to say farewell to autumn.
Everything at last turns back into thin air.
It’s over; tomorrow the mums wither and the butterflies despair.
（Gordon Osing，闵晓红，黄海鹏 译）