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Red Calyx: Plum Blossoms in the Abandoned Capital
how many official plums stand here,
their crimson calyxes not yet fit to wear.
Ice glazes the pond, snow ages against the walls,
and the heavy clouds brood darkly once again.
We wander together through bamboo pathways tangled in emerald vines,
our idle laughter startling the resting water-fowl along the shore.
Forest hermits and the ruined terraces of forgotten kings
seem to call us upward to climb and view the horizon.
Why do we drift north and south across the dusty roads,
tossed among the clouds of Xiang and the waters of Chu,
straining our eyes until the heart breaks?
Red doors paste paper roosters, gold platters shape swallow cakes,
while we sigh in vain at the relentless march of time.
I remember our elegant gatherings in the western pavilion,
and the weeping willows swaying ten thousand threads of gold.
By the time my homeward saddle finally reaches its destination,
I fear spring will already have faded away.
有官梅幾許,紅萼未宜簪。
池面冰膠,牆腰雪老,雲意還又沈沈。
翠藤共、閒穿徑竹,漸笑語、驚起臥沙禽。
野老林泉,故王臺榭,呼喚登臨。
南去北來何事,蕩湘雲楚水,目極傷心。
朱戶黏雞,金盤簇燕,空嘆時序侵尋。
記曾共,西樓雅集,想垂楊、還嫋萬絲金。
待得歸鞍到時,只怕春深。
Are there official plums how many, red calyxes not yet fit to hairpin.
Pond surface ice congealed, wall waist snow aged, cloud intent yet again gloomy gloomy.
Emerald rattan together, leisurely threading path bamboo, gradually laughter speech, startled up resting sand birds.
Wild old men forest springs, former kings terraces pavilions, calling out ascend and view.
South going north coming what matter, tossing Xiang clouds Chu waters, eyes utmost wounding heart.
Vermilion doors paste chickens, golden platters cluster swallows, vainly sighing seasons encroaching creeping.
Remember once shared, western tower elegant gathering, think hanging willows, still swaying ten thousand threads of gold.
Waiting until returning saddle arrives time, only fearing spring deep.