Washing Creek Sand: A New Song, a Cup of Wine
Yan Shu
A new song, a cup of wine; last year's weather, and the same old terrace. The sun sinks in the west — when will it come back?
Poetry library / Yan Shu: Ci Poems
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Yan Shu: Ci Poems
Read 8 ci poems with pinyin and English translations. Notes record textual variants and differing attributions where relevant.
Washing Creek Sand: Our Years Are Brief
Yan Shu
Brief is our allotted time, and finite is this life; even an ordinary parting can break the heart. Do not turn down frequent gatherings with wine and song.
Pure and Peaceful Music: Small Characters on Red Paper
Yan Shu
Small characters upon the red paper have told all the feelings of a lifetime. The wild goose is in the clouds, the fish is in the water; and sadly, this feeling is hard to send.
Mountain Pavilion Willow: To a Singer
Yan Shu
My home is in the west of Qin; I carry many skills and can match them against others. In song and dance I compete with fresh invention. Now and then I learn the airs of Niannu; sometimes my voice soars and stays the passing clouds. Countless lengths of Shu brocade were given me — not for nothing was my toil.
Butterfly Loves the Flower: Chrysanthemums Saddened by Mist, Orchids Weeping Dew
Yan Shu
The mums by the railing are sad in the mist, the orchids weep with dew; the silk curtains hold a light chill, and the swallows fly away in pairs. The bright moon knows nothing of parting's bitterness: its slanting light pierces the vermilion doors until the dawn.
Breaking the Enemy Ranks: Spring Scene
Yan Shu
When the swallows come, it is the spring She festival; after the pear blossoms fall, Clear-and-Bright. Upon the pool, three or four patches of green moss; among the leaves, an oriole or two. The days grow long, the flying catkins light.
Fisherman's Pride: Painted Drums Sound from Dusk to Dawn
Yan Shu
To the beat of painted drums dusk turns to dawn: time knows only how to hasten a man toward age. I beg a shallow joy, since wind and sun are kind. All lift their voices together in tune: a song of the immortals, this "Pride of Fishermen."
Shaking the Autumn Court: A Thousand Li Since We Parted
Yan Shu
Since we parted, news must travel a thousand li; I hate that this love cannot be sent. Through the azure gauze the autumn moon, upon the paulownia the rain of night — how many nights without sleep.