Dreaming of My Deceased Wife on the Night of the 20th Day of the First Month
Su Shi
十年生死两茫茫
不思量自难忘
千里孤坟无处话凄凉
纵使相逢应不识
尘满面鬓如霜
不思量自难忘
千里孤坟无处话凄凉
纵使相逢应不识
尘满面鬓如霜
夜来幽梦忽还乡
小轩窗正梳妆
相顾无言唯有泪千行
料得年年肠断处
明月夜短松冈
shí nián shēng sǐ liǎng máng máng
bù sī liàng zì nán wàng
qiān lǐ gū fén wú chù huà qī liáng
zòng shǐ xiāng féng yīng bù shí
chén mǎn miàn bìn rú shuāng
bù sī liàng zì nán wàng
qiān lǐ gū fén wú chù huà qī liáng
zòng shǐ xiāng féng yīng bù shí
chén mǎn miàn bìn rú shuāng
yè lái yōu mèng hū huán xiāng
xiǎo xuān chuāng zhèng shū zhuāng
xiāng gù wú yán wéi yǒu lèi qiān háng
liào dé nián nián cháng duàn chù
míng yuè yè duǎn sōng gǎng
Ten years living dead both boundless
Not think of capacity self hardly possible forget
Thousand li alone grave not place say wife cold
Even if together meet must not recognise
Dust cover face, temples like frost
Night come deep dream suddenly return home
Little window properly dress make up
Mutual look not speak, just be tears thousand line
Expect proper every year heart break place
Bright moon night thin pine guard
Not think of capacity self hardly possible forget
Thousand li alone grave not place say wife cold
Even if together meet must not recognise
Dust cover face, temples like frost
Night come deep dream suddenly return home
Little window properly dress make up
Mutual look not speak, just be tears thousand line
Expect proper every year heart break place
Bright moon night thin pine guard
Ten boundless years now separate the living and the dead,
I have not often thought of her, but neither can I forget.
Her lonely grave is a thousand li distant, I can’t say where my wife lies cold.
We could not recognise each other even if we met again,
My face is all but covered with dust, my temples glazed with frost.
In deepest night, a sudden dream returns me to my homeland,
She sits before a little window, and sorts her dress and make-up.
We look at each other without a word, a thousand lines of tears.
Must it be that every year I’ll think of that heart-breaking place,
Where the moon shines brightly in the night, and bare pines guard the tomb.
I have not often thought of her, but neither can I forget.
Her lonely grave is a thousand li distant, I can’t say where my wife lies cold.
We could not recognise each other even if we met again,
My face is all but covered with dust, my temples glazed with frost.
In deepest night, a sudden dream returns me to my homeland,
She sits before a little window, and sorts her dress and make-up.
We look at each other without a word, a thousand lines of tears.
Must it be that every year I’ll think of that heart-breaking place,
Where the moon shines brightly in the night, and bare pines guard the tomb.