Spring Scene / Tu Fu

[George Dance]

Spring Scene

In broken land the hills remain
And grass and trees are lush again.
My teardrops fall upon new flowers —
Birds flit — I pace and mourn the hours,
The flames of war now three months old,
A word from home more dear than gold.
I scratch my head; white hair too thin
To even hold a hairpin in.

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Tu Fu
translated by George Dance
(CC-BY-SA-25)

春望

国破山河在
城春草木深
感时花溅泪
恨别鸟惊心
烽火连三月
家书抵万金
白头搔更短
浑欲不胜簪

chūn wàng

guó pò shān hé zài
chéng chūn cǎo mù shēn
gǎn shí huā jiàn lèi
hèn bié niǎo jīng xīn
fēng huǒ lián sān yuè
jiā shū dǐ wàn jīn
bái tóu sāo gèng duǎn
hún yù bù shēng zān

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Tu Fu
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