Classic Poem

Catalpa leans toward lofty phoenix,
Cold Valley waits for singing pipes.
Shadow and echo, don't they fall in love?
All mates love, distant thought they are
Lovely the girl in her hidden room
When she became wife in her lord's home
Strict her virtue, taut with autumn frost,
Radiant her beauty, like the morning sun.
Good fortune is with us now,
We dearly hope it lasts to the end of our days.”

They lived in bliss, but before each knew the other well
Her beloved had to go on a journey long,
He removed his headband to go beyond ten thousand leagues,
Tied on official ribbons to go up to the royal domain.
He ordered his servants to come at break of dawn,
His followers all came to his side
Driven in his coach he left the suburbs,
His path slow and winding
If he lived, they would be parted long,
If he died, he would nevermore return.

Oh I hate official travel!
Three hills I suffer from dawn to dark
Hitching coaches tight we trek through winds chill,
Unsaddling we brave frosty dew
High plains, wet lowlands redouble our misery,
Whirlwinds roll tall trees
Scattered beasts appear in wild trails,
Frightened birds flee in panic.
Wretched the man on official circuit,
As he struggles along paths of crag and creek.

Far away the traveler grows distant,
Smoothly roll the years away
Happy hours turned to such a parting,
Days and months are drawing close to summer
Who knows how many seasons hot and cold?
In a glance I see nature bloom and wither
The year ends, I go toward my empty room,
Cold winds stir from the corners
In bed or rising I feel the days grow colder,
White frost spreads over the garden weeds

I worked hard, but gave in to homeward thoughts,
The road back skirts hills and rivers
Long ago I said goodbye before autumn whitened,
Now is the season of flowers
In silkworm months I see a time of rest,
In mulberry fields all is busy movement.
A lovely girl is doing her work,
Gracefully she draws high branches down.
Who would not look back at her city-razing beauty?
I slow my pace, pause halfway up the ridge.

Years have passed Such pining they had suffered!
His work was distant, word and image remote
Though it was a five-year separation,
Each was a stranger to the other's normal life
He leaves his coach, treads his old path,
A duck among waterplants he gives a quick wink.
Southern gold he by no means under values,
But at such a time he counts it as little!
Married love brings many sorrows
He whispers words of gold and jade.

Her high principles forbid him to dally.
At long last he leaves her, nothing won.
Slow, slow he covers the old path,
Eager, eager he reaches his gate-post.
Going up the hall he offers respectful greetings,
Entering his room he asks, “Where's my wife?”
“At sunset she comes home from picking,
At nature's Mulberry-Elm time.”
A beautiful woman arrives toward dusk.
He gasps with shock—he'd been with her before!

Who can stop love once love happens?
Let's tell of this wife's own hardship
We lived apart year in, year out.
Once parted, river and pass blocked our way.
Spring comes, perhaps he no longer enjoys it?
Autumn falls, he must feel cold sooner?
Till daybreak I fret my sad heart away,
In my room I rise with long sighs
The year is dark in my bitter anguish,
The sun has set upon my wanderer's face.

Playing high notes causes broken strings,
Intense music comes from high-pitched chords
Long ago when I enjoyed your bright dust
We vowed to be true from first to last
Aren't you who made our parting so long
To blame for all that's gone wrong?
Since you betrayed our pure marriage,
With whom will I end my days?
Disgraced like the “Dewdrops” woman
I'd better drown myself in the long river.