Read 9 ci poems with pinyin and English translations. Notes record textual variants and differing attributions where relevant.
Ouyang Xiu
At dawn I roll up the curtains in the light frost; I breathe upon my hands and try the plum-blossom makeup. All because I carry this grief of parting, I paint my brows long, like the far-off hills.
Ouyang Xiu
The plum by the staging-inn is spent, the willow by the stream bridge slender; the grass is fragrant, the wind warm, swaying the traveler's bridle. The grief of parting grows with the distance, and grows without end, unending as the spring water.
Ouyang Xiu
Among the flowers I suddenly hear the knock of two oars; in a moment my companions come looking for me. And quickly we take lotus leaves to serve as cups; the lotus boat rocks, and ever and again red waves rise in the cup.
Ouyang Xiu
Of late the stream before our gate has risen; how many times has your boat stolen its way to visit me? The boat is too small to spread the red bed canopy — nothing to be done: within the shadow of our brief joy, vain regret.
Ouyang Xiu
I lift my wine and pledge the east wind: let us take our ease together. By the purple road east of Luoyang where the willows droop — it was always there we walked hand in hand; we roamed through all the flowering groves.
Ouyang Xiu
Before the wine cup I meant to speak of the day I return, but as I begin, a lovely face is already overcome with grief. Life of itself holds love's folly; this sorrow has nothing to do with wind or moon.
Ouyang Xiu
Since we parted I have not known whether you are far or near; all I see is desolation, and so much dull pain. Further and further you go, until no letters come; the waters are wide and the fish swim deep — where can I ask?
Ouyang Xiu
The flowers are like her, the willows are like her. Among flowers and willows, in the green spring, people part. Head bowed, a double line of tears falls.
Attributed to Ouyang Xiu
In the southern garden at mid-spring we go for a spring outing; the wind is mild and we hear horses neigh. Green plums like beans, willows like painted brows; the days are long and butterflies are flying.
