STUDY IN CHINA GLOBAL (SCG)In Abbot Zan’s Room at Dayun Temple: Four Poems (3)
Du Fu
Du Fu
大云寺赞公房四首 (三)
灯影照无睡
心清闻妙香
夜深殿突兀
风动金锒铛
天黑闭春院
地清栖暗芳
玉绳回断绝
铁凤森翱翔
梵放时出寺
钟残仍殷床
明朝在沃野
苦见尘沙黄
dà yún sì zàn gōng fáng sì shǒu (sān)
dēng yǐng zhào wú shuì
xīn qīng wén miào xiāng
yè shēn diàn tū wù
fēng dòng jīn láng dāng
tiān hēi bì chūn yuàn
dì qīng qī àn fāng
yù shéng huí duàn jué
tiě fèng sēn áo xiáng
fàn fàng shí chū sì
zhōng cán réng yīn chuáng
míng zhāo zài wò yě
kǔ jiàn chén shā huáng
Lamplight shine without sleep
Heart clear smell wonderful incense
Night deep hall sudden lofty
Wind move gold clank clank
Sky black obstruct spring court
Earth clear dwell secret fragrance
Jade rope revolve cut sever
Iron phoenix dark soar
Sanskrit release sometimes out temple
Bell remnant remain thunder bed
Tomorrow at fertile field
Bitter see dirt sand yellow
Heart clear smell wonderful incense
Night deep hall sudden lofty
Wind move gold clank clank
Sky black obstruct spring court
Earth clear dwell secret fragrance
Jade rope revolve cut sever
Iron phoenix dark soar
Sanskrit release sometimes out temple
Bell remnant remain thunder bed
Tomorrow at fertile field
Bitter see dirt sand yellow
The lamplight shines on my sleeplessness,
My mind clear, I smell the splendid incense.
Deep in the night, the hall rears up high,
The wind stirs, and gold is heard to clank.
The black sky masks the springtime court,
To the pure earth clings a hidden fragrance.
The Jade Rope wheels round and is cut,
The iron phoenix seems about to soar.
Sanskrit sometimes flows out from the temple,
The lingering bells still echo round my bed.
Tomorrow morning in the fertile field,
I’ll bitterly behold the yellow dirt.
My mind clear, I smell the splendid incense.
Deep in the night, the hall rears up high,
The wind stirs, and gold is heard to clank.
The black sky masks the springtime court,
To the pure earth clings a hidden fragrance.
The Jade Rope wheels round and is cut,
The iron phoenix seems about to soar.
Sanskrit sometimes flows out from the temple,
The lingering bells still echo round my bed.
Tomorrow morning in the fertile field,
I’ll bitterly behold the yellow dirt.
