|
On the Jiang in the Sanxia, Three Gorges
Upon The Jiang
|
Dù Fǔ 712-770
Upon the Jiang, daily falls more rain:
Sad and dreary, Briar and Brush in Fall.
The high winds send trees' leaves down;
Endless nights gather sable robes close.
Merit and success: look often in my mirror;
Service, seclusion: lean alone in the tower.
In time of peril, long to requite milord:
Waning, withered, unable to give up
|
|
Jiānɡ Shànɡ
|
Dù Fǔ 712-770
Jiānɡshànɡ rì duō yǔ,
Xiāoxiāo jīnɡchǔ qiū.
Gāofēnɡ xià mùyè,
Yǒnɡyè lǎn diāoqiú.
Xūnyè pín kàn jìnɡ,
xínɡ cánɡ dú yǐ lóu.
Shí wēi sī bào zhǔ,
Shuāi xiè bù nénɡ xiū.
|
|
|
|