月出诗经·国风·陈风月出皎兮。
佼人僚兮。
舒窈纠兮。
劳心悄兮。
月出皓兮。
佼人懰兮。
舒忧受兮。
劳心慅兮。
月出照兮。
佼人燎兮。
舒夭绍兮。
劳心惨兮。
The erudite moon is up, less fair than shewho hath tied silk cords abouta heart in agony,she at such easeso all my work is vain.My heart is tinder, and steel plucks at my painso all my work is vain,she at such easeas is the inquiring moonA glittering moon comes outless bright than she the moon's colleaguethat is so fair,of yet such transient grace,at ease, undurable, so all my work is vaintorn with this pain.** Pound's note: A few transpositions but I think the words are all in the text.Trans.Ezra Pound The Moon AppearsThe moon appears, gleams, yea —lovely woman, fine, yea —moves away, graceful, yea —pains my heart, aches, yea —The moon appears, splendid, yea —lovely woman, radiant, yea —moves away, allures, yea —pains my heart, burns, yea —The moon appears, shines, yea —lovely woman, dazzling, yea —moves away, smoulders, yea —pains my heart, forlorn, yea —Trans.David Prager BrannerMoonriseThe moon shines bright;My love's snow-white.She looks so cute.Can I be mute?The bright moon gleams;My lover beams.Can I careFor her face fair?The bright moon turns,With love she burns.Can I not pineFor her hands fine?Trans.Yangs A moon rising whiteIs the beauty of my lovely one,Ah, the tenderness, the grace!Heart’s pain consumes me.A moon rising brightIs the fairness of my lovely one.Ah, the gentle softness!Heart’s pain wounds me.A moon rising in splendourIs the beauty of my lovely one.Ah, the delicate yielding!Heart’s pain torments me.Trans. Arthur Waley赠张云容舞唐杨玉环罗袖动香香不已，红蕖袅袅秋烟里。
轻云岭上乍摇风，嫩柳池边初拂水。
DancingBy Yang GuifeiWide sleeves sway.Scents,Sweet ScentsIncessant coming.It is red lilies,Lotus lilies,Floating up,And up,Out of autumn mist.Thin cloudsPuffed,Fluttered,Blown on a rippling windThrough a mountain pass.Young willow shootsTouchingBrushingThe waterOf the garden pool.—Trans. Amy Lowell月下独酌李白花间一壶酒，独酌无相亲。
举杯邀明月，对影成三人。
月既不解饮，影徒随我身。
暂伴月将影，行乐须及春。
我歌月徘徊，我舞影零乱。
醒时同交欢，醉后各分散。
永结无情游，相期邈云汉。
Last WordsTrans. Herbert A. Giles ~1900?An arbor of flowers and a kettle of wine:Alas! In the bowers no companion is mine.Then the moon sheds her rays on my goblet and me,And my shadow betrays we’re a party of three!Thou’ the moon cannot swallow her share of the grog,And my shadow must follow wherever I jog,Yet their friendship I’ll borrow and gaily carouse,And laugh away sorrow while spring-time allows.See the moon–how she dances response to my song;See my shadow–it dances so lightly along!While sober I feel, you are both my good friends;While drunken I reel, our companionship ends,But we’ll soon have a greeting without a goodbye,At our next merry meeting away in the sky.Amongst the flowers is a pot of wineTrans. Ezra Pound, 1915 Amongst the flowers is a pot of wineI pour alone but with no friend at handSo I lift the cup to invite the shining moon,Along with my shadow we become party of threeThe moon although understands none of drinking, and The shadow just follows my body vainlyStill I make the moon and the shadow my companyTo enjoy the springtime before too lateThe moon lingers while I am singingThe shadow scatters while I am dancingWe cheer in delight when being awakeWe separate apart after getting drunkForever will we keep this unfettered friendshipTill we meet again far in the Milky WayDrinking Alone by MoonlightTrans. Arthur Waley (1919) A cup of wine, under the flowering trees;I drink alone, for no friend is near.Raising my cup I beckon the bright moon,For he, with my shadow, will make three men.The moon, alas, is no drinker of wine;Listless, my shadow creeps about at my side.Yet with the moon as friend and the shadow as slaveI must make merry before the Spring is spent.To the songs I sing the moon flickers her beams;In the dance I weave my shadow tangles and breaks. While we were sober, three shared the fun;Now we are drunk, each goes his way.May we long share our odd, inanimate feast,And meet at last on the Cloudy River of the sky.Trans. Florence Ayscough & Amy Lowell (1921) A pot of wine among flowers.I alone, drinking, without a companion.I lift the cup and invite the bright moon.My shadow opposite certainly makes us three.But the moon cannot drink,And my shadow follows the motions of my body in vain.For the briefest time are the moon and my shadow my companions. Oh, be joyful! One must make the most of Spring.I sing–the moon walks forward rhythmically;I dance, and my shadow shatters and becomes confused.In my waking moments we are happily blended.When I am drunk, we are divided from one another and scattered.For a long time I shall be obligated to wander without intention.But we will keep our appointment by the far-off Cloudy River. Drinking Alone with the MoonTrans. Witter Bynner, 1929(?)From a pot of wine among the flowersI drank alone. There was no one with me–Till, raising my cup, I asked the bright moonTo bring me my shadow and make us three.Alas, the moon was unable to drinkAnd my shadow tagged me vacantly;But still for a while I had these friends.To cheer me through the end of spring . . .I sang. The moon encouraged me.I danced. My shadow tumbled after.As long as I knew, we were boon companions.And then I was drunk, and we lost one another.Shall goodwill ever be secure?I watch the long road of the River of Stars.Trans. Xu Yuanchong, 1997 Amid the flowers, from a pot of wineI drink alone beneath the bright moonshine,I raise my cup to invite the Moon who blendsHer light with my Shadow and we’re three friends.The Moon does not know how to drink her share;In vain my Shadow follows me here and there.Together with them for the time I stayAnd make merry before spring’s spent away.I sing and the Moon lingers to hear my song;My Shadow’s a mess while I dance along.Sober, we three remain cheerful and gay;Drunken, we part and each may go his way.Our friendship will outshine all earthly love,Next time we’ll meet beyond the stars above.。