農曆癸巳年十日初五(2013.11.07)立冬
Winter (1) tr.by SL Kong; calligraphy by T.C.Lai
斜日低山片月高,睡余行药绕江郊。
霜风捣尽千林叶,闲倚筇枝数鹳巢。
The setting sun lowers the hills so the moon could hang high
After my nap I stroll around the river banks my spirit delight
Frosty winds have stripped trees in a thousand woods bare
Leaning on my staff I count how many heron’s nests are there
屋上添高一把茅,密泥房壁似僧寮。
从教屋外阴风吼,卧听篱头响玉箫。
Adding a layer of rushes to my roof the house looks taller
With clay-cast on the walls it is now warm as a monk dweller
Who cares how winds outside tear and roar
Lying in bed I enjoy the flute music from next door
松节然膏当烛笼,凝烟如墨暗房栊;
晚 来拭净南窗纸,便觉斜阳一倍红。
Burning pine cream for light is better than candles
Smoke aroma scents the room and blackens the portico
At dusk I cleaned the paper cover of the south window
The setting sun sends in red rays the brilliance double
放船开看雪山晴,风定奇寒晚更凝。
坐听一篙珠玉碎,不知湖面已成冰!
I put away my boat to appreciate the hills in snow
Eves are severely cold when winds calm and still
Sitting quietly I hear peals and jades breaking like music
Little do I know sheets of ice are forming on the lake
拨雪挑来踏地菘,味如蜜藕更肥醲。
朱门肉食无风味,只作寻常菜把供。
Wiping away the snow we collect the cabbage on frosty ground
It tastes succulent like lotus roots sweet and round
Rich folks in big mansions know only meat on their tables
They regard this heavenly vegetable only as eatable
榾柮无烟雪夜长,地炉煨酒暖如汤。
莫嗔老妇无盘飣,笑指灰中芋栗香。
Warmed by short wood logs the snowy night is long
Buried under earth a jar of wine is hot as broth
Don’t blame the old wife preparing no fine food
Smiling she fetches roasted taros and chestnuts smelling good
村巷冬年见俗情,邻翁讲礼拜柴荆。
长衫布缕如霜雪,云是家机自织成。
Year-end lore and customs are vivid in village lanes as usual
Neighbourly visits are showing their special rituals
Old men don on long gowns white as snow
They proudly tell the cloth comes from the house loom