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Ancient Air #38

Li Bo 699-762 A solitary orchid grows in a secluded garden, As common weeds conspire to submerge it. Though basking in the rays of springtime sun, It still grieves at the high autumn moon. Flyiing frost early came whispering, Green luxuriance feared an imminent end. Without the gust of a fresh wind, For whom would it put forth such fragrance?

Gǔ Fēnɡ

Lǐ Bái 699-762 Gūlán shēnɡ yōuyuán, Zhònɡcǎo ɡònɡ wú mò. Suī zhào yánɡ chūn huī, Fù bēi ɡāo qiū yuè. Fēishuānɡ zǎo xī lì, Lǜyàn kǒnɡ xiū xiē. Ruò wú qīnɡfēnɡ chuī, Xiānɡqì wèi shuí fā.

Translator:

Paula Varsano 翻譯者

Notes: Translation from Paula Varsano's great book on Li Bo, Tracking the Banished Immortal, The Poetry of Li Bo and Its Critical Reception, University of Hawaii Press, 2003.

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