Pu Sa Man Li Bai
Translated by Chen Yaoguo (1965 from Ottawa)
A misty forest weaves far and wide
to cold teal mountains, my heartbreaks aside.
Darkness befalls a mansion tall,
wherein melancholy is stored.
Standing alone on steps of jade,
birds flutter fast to roost ending the day.
Where is my way home?
I’d falter long and short along pausing zones.
Lyric to the tune of Heavenly Barbarian (Po Sa Man)
Translated by Yu Fong-ying (1961 from Vancouver)
An expanse of woods is latticed in mist.
Cold hills roll away; so green it aches.
Dusk is darkening the tall mansion
Where someone listlessly waits.
Vacant, she stands on the jade-tiled balcony.
The homing birds fly hurriedly by.
But which is the route back,
Post after post – some far apart, some so near?
To the Tune of Dancing Buddhists
Translated by Shiu L Kong (1953 from Hong Kong)
Over the sprawling plain teaming woods weave a misty screen
On cold mountains strays a belt of heart rending green
Where dusk masks the tower high
Alone she lets out a sad sigh
On marble steps her futile wait is nigh
Up high homing birds fly sweeping by
Where could her heart find a source of solace
She searches far and near finding not a right trace
Translated by K.C. Lee (1965 from Washington, D.C.)
As mist thickens toward dusk in chills,
green woods darken in the distant hills.
The evening scene seeps into the awareness,
of someone in the tower above still waiting.
Staring out emptily, standing on the stone floor,
flocks of returning birds add to the pining.
When o when, will the sojourner be back?
How o how, does one cover such slack!
Even though I have already pleaded lack of aptitude on this one, but 师命不敢违. So will make an attempt basing my translation on the following version of interpretation. Again trying to express the intent more than the precise wording, as in most of my translation efforts.