和子由渑池怀旧 原作: 苏轼（11世纪北宋） 英版: 闵晓红(2023) 人生到处知何似？ 应似飞鸿踏雪泥。 泥上偶然留指爪， 鸿飞哪复计东西！ 老僧已死成新塔， 坏壁无由见旧题。 往日崎岖还记否？ 路长人困蹇驴嘶！ What is the human journey when compared? (In echo of my brother Ziyou’s “Remembering Mianchi”)   Chinese original: Su Shi English version: Julia Min   What is the human journey when compared? To the wild geese landing on thawing ground. They rest, then rise and vanish into the air, leaving claw prints in muddy snow all around. As for the marks, east or west, who would care?   The old monk is now just ash in a new pagoda. The wall where we left verses has tumbled down. You asked if I could recall our teenage years — those winding roads and adventures we found. I see two boys on bony donkeys, both knackered! Notes: 1. Ziyou’s “Mianchi in Memory” : Here’s the original poem in Chinese: 怀渑池寄子瞻兄 》(“相携话别郑原上, /共道长途怕雪泥。/归骑还寻大梁陌，/行人已渡古崤西。 // 曾为县吏民知否，/旧宿僧房壁共题。/遥想独游佳味少，/无言骓马但鸣嘶!”) Appreciation: This poem is a lyrical gift from Su Shi to his brother, Ziyou. It’s a thoughtful reply that turns a simple question into a profound meditation on life. The central idea is beautiful: our lives are like a wild goose leaving footprints in melting snow. The marks are real, but they don’t last—the goose flies on, and the slush soon smooths over. This isn't a sad thought, but a freeing one. It asks, why cling to every past step?   In the second half, the poem shifts from this big idea to a warm, personal memory. The old monk is gone, their young graffiti has faded, but what remains is crystal clear: the two of them as boys, bone-tired on a long road, riding grumpy donkeys. This vivid, gritty snapshot becomes the one thing time cannot erase. It’s as if Su Shi is saying that while fame fades and walls crumble, the shared journey—the real, exhausting, human experience of it—is what truly lasts. The poem quietly moves from letting go of life’s small traces to holding tight to its deepest bonds.   This English version makes an ancient poem feel fresh and familiar by using clear, vivid language. It paints strong images, like “thawing ground” and “tumbled down,” without getting too lofty. The bold choice to end with a word like “knackered” grounds the memory in real, physical exhaustion. This honest, relatable tone reminds us these were real people on a hard road. By blending thoughtful imagery with plain-spoken words, it invites readers to see their own journeys in Su Shi’s timeless reflection. Reference: 1. Blooming Alone in Winter by Gordon Osing, Julia Min and Huang Haipeng，published by the People's Publication House Henan Province in 1990 (《寒心未肯随春态》戈登.奥赛茵，闵晓红，黄海鹏) “Remembering Old Times at Mian Chi” — ”A man’s life might take him anywhere. How should it go?/ It should be like the wild-goose’s footprints left in mud./Left there accidentally almost, whatever the need./The wild goose is gone, the prints go east and west, who cares?//Old Feng-Xian died, was burned, and turned into this pagoda;/The poem we made time erased from the ruined walls./Remember how rough and rugged were those old days./How wearied we were, how endless the path, how our donkeys neighed!” 3. painting from Google；

新城道中 原作: 苏轼（字子瞻, 号东坡居士; 11世纪北宋） 新版英译及赏析: 闵晓红(2023) 东风知我欲山行，吹断檐间积雨声。 岭上晴云披絮帽，树头初日挂铜钲。 野桃含笑竹篱短，溪柳自摇沙水清。 西崦人家应最乐，煮葵烧笋饷春耕。 On my way to Newtown written by: Su Shi (11th AC, social name 'Dongpo') En. trans.+ annot. by Julia Min ( Feb. 2023)   East Wind knows I’m off to see the mountains, So it stills the rain’s dripping music on eaves. The peaks are crowned with clouds like cotton. A treetop hangs a brass gong, the sun at dawn.   Each bud is a peach smile over bamboo fences, And willows wave at me across a clear stream. Westhill smells okra and bamboo shoots boiling, A hearty start to sow seeds in the fields of spring. Notes: 1. Newtown: a county of Hangzhou Prefecture (Xindong County Zhejiang Province today); Appreciation: This poem beautifully captures the Song Dynasty's love of nature. In 1073, Su Shi was Magistrate of Hangzhou and clearly relished every chance to escape official routines for the simple joys of the countryside, gaining first-hand insight into the real life under his governance.   A new kind of pastoral poetry: Influenced by Zhuangzi and the gentle rise of Zen, Su Shi moved beyond the ornate Tang style. He found poetry in everyday moments—a hike, a farmhouse kitchen, a friendly breeze. This playful, human-centred approach was centuries ahead of similar currents in European literature.   The poem sparkles with playful imagery: • East Wind turns thoughtful host, clearing the rain just as the poet heads out. • Mountain peaks wear cloudy cotton hats; the morning sun hangs like a brass gong in the trees. • Best of all, each bud is a peach smile over fences, and willows wave hello along the stream.   Everything feels alive and welcoming: The poem doesn't end with grand philosophy, but with something better: the smell of dinner. Okra and bamboo shoots boiling in a hillside kitchen—spring planting has begun. For Su Shi, those Western Hills families are the happiest people alive. Their days are gently shaped by the seasons, their labour seasoned with simple, good food. Reference: 1. Blooming Alone in Winter by Gordon Osing, Julia Min and Huang Haipeng，published by the People's Publication House Henan Province in 1990 (《寒心未肯随春态》戈登.奥赛茵，闵晓红，黄海鹏) ( “ On the Road to Newtown : The east wind sees I go into the mountains today/And leaves-off raining, but for the music falling front eaves./The hills wear the last of the clouds, white caps of cotton,/And a fresh sun hangs in the treetops, a bright, brass gong.// Each peach-bud’s a smile by low bamboo fences/Where a stream and her willow are waving, the sands running clear/How lucky the man with so cozy a place, with its yields,/The woman who boils-up the shoots for her man in the field. ” ) 2. pictures from “蒋溥写意画”

雨中游天竺灵感观音院 原作: 苏轼（字子瞻, 号东坡居士; 11世纪北宋） 新版英译及赏析: 闵晓红(2023) 蚕欲老，麦半黄， 山前山后水浪浪。 农夫辍耒女废筐， 白衣仙人在高堂。 A Visit to Guanyin Temple in Mt. Tianzhu   Chinese original: Su Shi (1072, social name 'Dongpo') Englsih version: Julia Min ( Feb. 2023)   It's time for silkworms to spin their cocoons, For the wheat in the field to turn half gold. But in torrents the rain rolls, soaking the hills, Ploughs gather moss, and baskets stay unfilled, Yet the goddess in white, serene on her throne. Notes: 1.     Guanyin: A bodhisattva (an enlightened being of compassion) originating in Indian Buddhism and deeply revered in Chinese culture. By the Song Dynasty, Guanyin was predominantly worshipped as a feminine deity. She is often depicted holding a vase of sacred nectar in her left hand and a willow branch in her right, symbols of her power to heal and alleviate suffering. The imperial patronage of temples like this one during the Song era significantly elevated her status in the Chinese popular imagination. 2.     Tianzhu (天竺): "Celestial Pillar" Mountain, located in the West Lake area of Hangzhou. The name evokes the sacred geography of India, reflecting the Buddhist origins of the temple site. Appreciation: This succinct poem was composed in 1072, a period when the controversial New Law (Xinfa) were being implemented nationwide. Su Shi, while not opposed to reform in principle, was critical of the policies' rushed execution and the incompetent officials enforcing them, which he believed caused widespread disruption. Preferring direct observation to court debate, he requested a provincial post. Writing here as the newly appointed Prefect of Hangzhou, he documents the immediate crisis of flooded fields and paralysed farm work. The poem’s power lies in its stark juxtaposition: the desperate inaction of the farmers against the serene, unmoved deity. This is more than a landscape sketch; it is a potent political allegory and a silent, ironic protest against the authorities whose actions (or inaction) had created such suffering.   This poem reminds me of William Blake’s work “ London”. Both poets fix their gaze on the visible marks of systemic failure, shifting from Su Shi’s rain-drenched fields to Blake’s soot-blackened streets. Su Shi’s “ploughs abandoned, baskets empty still” are rural emblems of a social order broken by distant policy, just as Blake’s “marks of weakness, marks of woe” are urban signatures of a society spiritually diseased. In both, earthly anguish meets a chilling silence from inert authority: Blake’s “black’ning Church” and blood-stained Palace stand as unmoved as Su Shi’s “goddess in white, serene, enthroned.” This juxtaposition—suffering below, indifference above—transforms each poem from description into a quiet, furious indictment. Reference: 1. Blooming Alone in Winter by Gordon Osing, Julia Min and Huang Haipeng，published by the People's Publication House Henan Province in 1990 (《寒心未肯随春态》戈登.奥赛茵，闵晓红，黄海鹏) ("It’s time the silkworms made cocoons, for yellow wheat in the fields,/But waters pour down on waters pouring down from the hills./And no man is ploughing, not one woman’s basket is filled,/Yet the high temple goddess sits sleeping or perfectly still.) 3. pictures from Google；

念奴娇.中秋 原作: 苏轼（字子瞻, 号东坡居士; 11世纪北宋） 英译及赏析: 闵晓红(2023) 凭高眺远，见长空万里，云无留迹。 桂魄飞来，光射处，冷浸一天秋碧。 玉宇琼楼，乘鸾来去，人在清凉国。 江山如画，望中烟树历历。 我醉拍手狂歌，举杯邀月，对影成三客。 起舞徘徊风露下，今夕不知何夕？ 便欲乘风，幡然归去，何用骑鹏翼！ 水晶宫里，一声吹断横笛。 A Blissful Night on the Moon Festival -to the tune of Niannujiao written by Su Shi (11th AC, social name 'Dongpo') En. trans.+ annot. by Julia Min ( 2023) This pavilion on the hill enjoys a splendid view: The Moon, a serene company in a clear clime, bathes the autumn world with refreshing light. On the phoenix wings, the deities take flight to gather in her honour at the Jade Palace high. She’s at her best of the year, a fulfilled delight. I almost spot the big laurel tree veiled in haze, above the smooth river and the dreamy hillsides. I start to sing to this tune, clapping to beat time. And dance a twisted satire to a twisting shadow. A toast to Goddess Luna! I hold my wine cup high, It’s no solo but a trio, with Her Grace in the sky. The tipsy mind feels no cold wind, no creeping frost, asking the ageless moon: what year up there tonight? Could I return to heaven riding the wind sans wings? I’d play my flute to make the celestials dewy-eyed. Notes: 1. on phoenix wings: Chinese legend holds that the deities travel on a phoenix in the Moon world. 2. Jade Palace: According to Chinese legend, the Moon is a crystal world. Many Chinese stories describe mansions on the Moon built of jade; the Chinese have always believed the calendar in Heaven differs from the one on Earth. 3. laurel tree: Again, from Chinese legend, there’s a huge bay laurel on the Moon; its symbolism is associated with purity, glory and success in both the East and the West. 4. the smooth river: refers here to the Yangtze River, the 2nd longest river in the world. 5. no solo but a trio: a sentimental scene borrowed from the famous Tang Dynasty poet Li Bai’s verse, as I translated, “I raised my cup high to the full moon for a toast. / It’s a reunion of Three including my shadow.” (李白“举杯邀明月,对影成三人。”) 6. what year up there: The Chinese have always believed the calendar in Heaven is different from the one on Earth, hence the question. A sense of humour is evident here, implying the big gap between these two worlds. Appreciation: Only a few years earlier, in 1076, Su Shi wrote what was considered the best poem for the Moon Festival – “When was the Moon ever so Bright”《水调歌头.明月几时有》. It was a moment of loneliness after his wife’s death and the absence of a family reunion with his brother Ziyou for the past seven years. Although there was a touch of longing to leave the hustle and bustle of his official world, away from his social and political attachments, he was led to believe that earthly joy was much cosier than the cold life of Heaven. Back then, a thread of hope for earthly happiness still ran through his grief.   Now, in this poem, his new chapter is painted with a near-death experience of 3-month imprisonment after a political setup by his opponent, followed by an exile life in the remote town of Huangzhou. He didn’t know then that this was just the first of three banishments meant to marginalise him and his followers from the dominant political circle. This year, 1082, saw him with his 2nd wife and kids in Huangzhou, where they had to farm to have food on the table, but at least he was with his family on the Moon Festival, a time of family reunion. The utter loneliness and melancholy clearly came out of his disappointment with the New Law, which brought more hazards for the country, and he didn’t get a chance to do anything about it.   His mind was led by imagery of life in Heaven, with little said about life on Earth compared with his previous poem for the Festival. The connotation is to completely let go of his worldly attachments and fly to an ever-widening world of Heaven, the jade palace of the Moon, and tell the celestials about his stories on Earth. The poem culminates in a surge of transcendent release—the fantasy of riding the wind without wings, of playing a flute note that would move the crystal world to tears. It is a powerful open ending: not a resolution, but an emotional wave suspended at its peak, leaving the reader’s heart suspended with it. Dramatic, romantic and inspiring…… Reference: 1. baike.baidu.com 百度 2. pictures from Google 3. other versions for your reference： https://y.qq.com/n/ryqq/mv/000IRvEY2jlLMH 喜马拉雅 https://m.ximalaya.com/waiyu/32890715/261743329

於潜女 原作: 苏轼（字子瞻, 号东坡居士; 11世纪北宋） 新版英译及赏析: 闵晓红(2023) 旧版英译:戈登.奥赛茵, 闵晓红, 黄海鹏(1990) 青裙缟袂於潜女，两足如霜不穿屦。 觰沙鬓发丝穿柠，蓬沓障前走风雨。 老濞宫妆传父祖，至今遗民悲故主。 苕溪杨柳初飞絮，照溪画眉渡溪去。 逢郎樵归相媚妩，不信姬姜有齐鲁。 The Yuqian Women written by Su Shi (11th AC, social name 'Dongpo') new En. trans.+ annot. by Julia Min ( Feb. 2023) old En. trans. by G. Osing, J. Min & H. Huang (1990) Snow blouse, blue skirt, the Yuqian women wear. Their feet are pale as frost, for they are often bare. Just a silver comb, in two loops they dress the hair; Wind or rain, their silver headbands stay, I swear. The palace style descended from Wu-Yue period To honour their King Qian, their legendary figure. Willows start shedding their catkins on Yun River. In fresh make-up, they get in a boat to cross over. Their brushed eyebrow wings delight to where Their dear woodmen lovers wait in eager desire. The day’s work in the woods has its best reward. No Yuqian man trades his girl for a posh lady fair. Notes: 1. ‘Yuqian’: a county about 200 km from Hangzhou. 2. ‘Wu-Yue’ and ‘King Qian’: King Qian (Qian, Miao钱镠), the founder of the Wu-Yue State during the Ten States period between the Tang and the Song. Hangzhou was the capital. To save his people from the catastrophe of a war with the Song’s Zhao army, he gave up his crown for peace and the united Song Dynasty. Many famous men have come from the Qian family, even in modern China. 3. ‘Yun River’: another name for River Tiao; ‘Yun’ is chosen for the assonance in the line. Appreciation: In 1093, Su Shi inspected the Yuqian area, where the Wu-Yue culture had flourished since the early Han Dynasty. The traditional dress, silver head coverings, and the charming openness of Yuqian women took his fancy. In contrast, there are the courtesans, the mythical ladies, and the various ideal women in folklore. Again, catkins are associated with softness and the feminine in culture, with true love and spiritual nourishment. If you step back to take a panoramic view of the artistic world in China and Europe, you’ll see similarities in the main features of the Renaissance: the general trends in aesthetic tastes evolved from luxurious palace art to the simple style of common subjects and everyday life in the countryside. Bright colours gradually gave way to simple, plain colours such as light blue, light green, black, and white. This occurred across the board, not only in poetry but also in painting, sculpture, music, and design. I sincerely hope this new perspective inspires more studies of the rhymes and vibes of Song Dynasty art. Reference: 1. Blooming Alone in Winter by Gordon Osing, Julia Min and Huang Haipeng，published by the People's Publication House Henan Province in 1990 (《寒心未肯随春态》戈登.奥赛茵，闵晓红，黄海鹏) ( “ Yuqian Wome : Black skirts, snow blouses, the Yuqian women wear. / Their feet are pale as frost because they’re bare. / They whirl and dance, in two loops pin their hair; / In storms their silver headbands stay, I swear, / Descended straight from the palace and their / Precious ancestors to themselves, who take great care /To honor the old ruler. By Tiao stream catkins fill the air, / An eyebrow of a woodthrush wings down to where / One of these waits her woodman-lover hurrying there; / No Yuqian husband trades his lady for some mythical lady fair.”) 2. pictures from

有美堂暴雨 原作: 苏轼（字子瞻, 号东坡居士; 11世纪北宋） 英译及赏析: 闵晓红(2023) 游人脚底一声雷， 满座顽云拔不开。 天外黑风吹海立， 浙东飞雨过江来。 十分潋滟金樽凸， 千杖敲铿羯鼓催。 唤起谪仙泉酒面， 倒倾鲛室泻琼瑰。 A Storm over Youmei Hall   Chinese original by Su Shi (11th Century, social name 'Dongpo') English version by Julia Min ( Feb. 2023)   Beneath my feet, the Earth shudders in thunder. Overhead, the sky darkens in rumbling anger. The wild wind hurls up rolling walls of waves. Rain, dark and furious, sweeps across the river.   Each drop strikes loud as a beat on Jie drum, West Lake cheers up, a winecup overfilled. The storm could sober up Li Bai from his cup, Who’ll pour out poems like mermaid’s pearls. Notes: 1. Youmei Hall: built in 1057 during the Song Dynasty in honour of Emperor Renzong and named after his verse. It was severely damaged or destroyed in 1129 amid the warfare and turmoil at the end of the Northern Song Dynasty, particularly during the Jin invasion. The hall was rebuilt in the 16th century during the Ming Dynasty. 2. Jie drum: a large, loud drum of the Jie People, once favoured by the Tang Emperor Xuanzong for its powerful, resonant sound—here compared to the pounding of storm rain; 3. Li Bai: one of the greatest Chinese poets from the Tang dynasty. Legend holds that he was once summoned to the emperor while still in a drunken stupor; the emperor ordered him doused with cold water to sober him, whereupon Li Bai broke into a “frenzy of composition.” Su Shi’s allusion humorously suggests this storm would be even more effective than an imperial command. Appreciation: Composed in 1073, when Su Shi was the magistrate (similar to the deputy governor) of Hangzhou, a remarkably productive period for him as both a civil servant and a poet.  Youmei Hall stood near Hangzhou, a thriving place at the time.   The hall had long been a popular subject for poems, prose, and paintings. Any new work would be judged against the masterpieces of the past. It would be like trying to compose a poem on daffodils after Wordsworth, to paint  The Last Supper  after Leonardo da Vinci, or to sing “Poetry in Motion” after Johnny Tillotson. You can almost feel the pressure Su Shi must have felt—pressure he transformed into inspiration. True to his nature, he swam against the current and created a poem so powerful that it has become one of the most remembered works about the hall.   Unlike the common way of ushering the reader in with introductory lines, this poem pulls you right into the moment: a majestic summer storm playing over the wide river, the hills, West Lake, and the travellers on Wu Hill. To match that force, Su Shi calls on the glorious Tang dynasty: the emperor’s thundering Jie drums, the untamed poet Li Bai, and even the magical pearls of a mermaid. He doesn’t just describe a storm; he makes it legendary.   Reading it, I feel as if I’m standing beside him before the hall, soaked through. Don’t you? Reference: 1. Blooming Alone in Winter by Gordon Osing, Julia Min and Huang Haipeng，published by the People's Publication House Henan Province in 1990 (《寒心未肯随春态》戈登.奥赛茵，闵晓红，黄海鹏) ( “ A Storm Over Youmei Hall -- Earth breaks open under me;/ In wonderful anger Heaven is solid black;/ The darkness hurls-up great waves in the distance/ And furious rains cress the river with Easterlies./ The river’s alive as wine in my gold cup overfilled / The Jie are pounding drums demanding rain’s obedience. /Be quick, my soul, like Li Bai, when the King had him doused. / Upside down’s the mermaid’s house and all her pearls spilled.”) 2. pictures from Google

游金山寺 原作: 苏轼（字子瞻, 号东坡居士; 11世纪北宋） 英译及赏析: 闵晓红(2023) 我家江水初发源，宦游直送江入海。 闻道潮头一丈高，天寒尚有沙痕在。 中泠南畔石盘陀，古来出没随涛波。 试登绝顶望乡国，江南江北青山多。 羁愁畏晚寻归楫，山僧苦留看落日。 微风万顷靴文细，断霞半空鱼尾赤。 是时江月初生魄，二更月落天深黑。 江心似有炬火明，飞焰照山栖鸟惊。 怅然归卧心莫识，非鬼非人竟何物？ 江山如此不归山，江神见怪惊我顽。 我谢江神岂得已，有田不归如江水。 注： 1071年苏轼赴杭州任通判，途径镇江金山寺，留宿。二更夜看见寺前的长江现异象，遂写此诗记下。 My Unforgettable Visit to Jinshan Temple written by: Su Shi English version: Julia Min ( Feb. 2023) This river source is Mt Min in my hometown. My career followed the waves all the way down. It’s said she loses peace to roaring tides at times, rolling sands down to where the ocean hides. Yet, the rocks by Zhongling Stream on the south Stand fast through all the waves, soft or loud. I climb the peak for a glimpse of my native place, Green ranges crowd my gaze, losing Min’s trace. It’s time to go home, but I can’t find my boat. As my mind wanders, the day’s getting late. The monks bid me stay: The sunset is best — Rosy clouds parade, a symphony of shades. Far and near, the breeze rolls rippling waves. As the new moon pins the darkening sky, a bright object suddenly appears on the river. The hills are floodlit, and crows caw in fear. The River is consumed by the dark right after. I cannot sleep, lost in reasoning for a judgment. Maybe River God’s vexed with this wanderer, who lingers after fame, this far from homeland. I seek His pardon — driven not by my choice, and swear to return when I can own some land. Notes: 1. Jinshan Temple: an old temple complex on Mt. Jin (‘shan’ meaning a hill here) in Zhenjiang City, Jiangsu Province, today. The complex land was once an island in the middle of the Yangtze River during Su Shi’s time, but is now just a part of the south bank. 2. Mt Min: Su Shi was born in Meizhou, a small town nestled at the bottom of the great Mt Min, which was believed back then to be the source of the Yangtze River. 3. Zhongling Stream: a stream running down Mt Jin to the Yangtze River; Appreciation： On his way to his new post as the mayor of Hangzhou, Su Shi was invited by his friends, two monks at Jinshan Temple, to visit the famous complex. It may have been the monks’ idea to hide Su Shi’s boat so they could spend more time with their beloved friend. That night, under a crescent moon, they saw with awe a supernatural sight in the middle of the Yangtze River, which, in modern terms, could be an unidentified object. It happened at about 10 pm on November 3, 1070, according to the Chinese lunar calendar, around early December in the solar calendar.   This poem in 7-character verse could be read simply as a travelogue. But the touch of a celebrity, with his sentiment at that moment, enhances the artistic effect through dramatic imagination. It is structured into three parts, so it can be reasonably divided into three stanzas to suit today’s poetry format. (Ancient Chinese writings didn’t use paragraph format or punctuation.) It begins with a melancholy sigh that he’s wandering further away on his official journey from his hometown on the Yangtze River, foreshadowing the ending verse.   The sightseeing and aesthetic values are detailed here, with the rocks on the south bank symbolising his obstinate personality, hinting that he’s so buried in the hustle and bustle of the fame-hunting game that he’s not awakened to free his true nature. The 2nd stanza tells the main incident of the miraculous object in flames, lighting up both banks of the river. He sought to conclude this experience with an intellectual interpretation, echoing his precious melancholy with fantasy and a promise of returning to the mountains. Reference: 1. Blooming Alone in Winter by Gordon Osing, Julia Min and Huang Haipeng，published by the People's Publication House Henan Province in 1990 (《寒心未肯随春态》戈登.奥赛茵，闵晓红，黄海鹏) (" For how long now have these shores been altered by waves!/I climb a peak to look for my native place…./There are only the river, north and south, and mountainous green./Homesick, afraid, and finally, I remember my boat,/But the old monk bids me watch the sun go down./A light wind blows over the wide river, like a wavering sail.//The last of the clouds, mid-air, are red fishtails./And now the moon must five the river light;/Now midnight nears and day is deepest dark./What are those, torches? Out in mid-stream, burning?/What is it startling crow from his nightly home?//How sadly I go to bed, my heart not knowing/If it was spirit, trick, or man, or what it was./“Why not return here, it’s all so beautiful.”/The river god’s mystery accuses foolish me./I thank his silver mercies, what else can I do?/If I’ve a land an don’t abide there, make me this river ) 3. painting from Google；

江城子·天涯流落思无穷 (别徐州) 原作：苏轼 英译：闵晓红 天涯流落思无穷； 既相逢，却匆匆。 携手佳人，和泪折残红。 为问东风余几许? 春纵在，与谁同! 隋堤三月水溶溶； 背归鸿，去吴中。 回首彭城，清泗与淮通。 欲寄相思千点泪， 流不到、楚江东。 A traveller of the world, a seeker of the soul (Leaving Xuzhou) - to the tune of Jiangchengzi written by: Su Shi ( 11th century) translated by: Julia Min A wanderer of the world, a seeker of the soul, I feel as if we’ve just met; now I’m set to go. How much spring is left me? I ask east wind， plucking the last bloom for my love in sorrow. And who would be my spring mate in Huzhou?   The March river ripples on along the Sui Levees, I head southward, my back to the returning geese. When the Si-Huai river-joint is stolen from view, all the memories come to life, a brimming stream. How can I flow my tears now to Chu River East? Notes： 1.     east wind: the main wind direction in spring, and spring is also called ‘East God’, another name for ‘Spring God’. 2.     Sui Levees: the Grand Canal built during the Sui and Tang dynasties to channel water north. Here, it refers to the water from the Bian River (a branch of the Si River) to the Huai River. 3.     returning geese: the wild geese would fly from south to north in spring. Although Su Shi was governor of Xuzhou for only two years, he already felt at home, hence ‘returning’. Huzhou is in the south of Xuzhou. 4.     Chu River: the other name for River Si, which flows through Xuzhou and joins River Huai in Xuzhou City. However, Huzhou is some distance away from the river. Appreciation: This is a farewell lyric, a ci song composed upon leaving Xuzhou for Huzhou after Su Shi was appointed governor of Huzhou. In only 23 months in Xuzhou, Governor Su had already established himself as a father-like figure loved by the locals, a memory still fresh among the Xuzhou people. Every school child knows him through the poems in their textbooks. For a thousand years, no other governor or mayor has surpassed him in the minds of Xuzhou people. He led the people in building levees (the Su Levees) and the Yellow Tower to combat floods, opened coal mines for the winter, and restored the local iron metallurgical industry, among many other achievements. He also left behind some famous calligraphy and three hundred poems, and this one is probably the last he composed before arriving at his new post in Huzhou.   At the age of 42, Su Shi and his followers were known as ‘the Old Party’ or ‘Yuanyou Party’, a name defined against ‘The New Party’. The New Party was at the peak of implementing the New Law at this time. Disfavoured by the Throne, Su Shi chose to be dispatched from the Court to take on hands-on work in regional administration. He quite enjoyed his stay in Xuzhou, though his political ambition for the Song remained a hard knot, hence the human inquiry: “How much spring is left me? I ask East God.” Indeed, Su Shi, with his temples thinning by the year, aspired to return to the Court with his followers to bring things back to order for a stronger and greater Song. Instead, he was dispatched, travelling north and south, even as far away as Hainan Island, footing the biggest map ever in the entire history of civil servants’ dispatchment in the Song Dynasty. Yet his life was intensely lived with vigour and passion shared by everyone around him. And his artistic vibes have become ever more vibrant over a thousand years.   Reference: Old version – “Upon leaving Xuzhou” ( I’ve wandered over the world for years, considering everything:/We are no sooner met than I must make plans for leaving./We shake hands tearfully; trees shed the last blooms remaining./How many good times are left me? I ask the east wind;/And who will be my friends in what’s left of Spring?//’Between the Sui Levees the Bian River in March is wide and murmuring./Southward, to Huzhou, I’m bound, my back to the geese returning./Looking back to Xuzhou I see the Si and Huai Rivers joining./I’d send you my lonely tears in the River Huai,/But it doesn’t flow past Huzhou, where I’ll be pining 杰华《苏轼在徐州》 无犀 原创 ( souhu.com)

饮湖上初晴后雨 原作: 苏轼（字子瞻, 号东坡居士; 11世纪北宋） 英译及赏析: 闵晓红(2023) 水光潋滟晴方好， 山色空蒙雨亦奇。 欲把西湖比西子， 淡妆浓抹总相宜。 A moment from shine to rain on West Lake Chinese original by Su Shi (11th Century, social name 'Dongpo') English version by Julia Min ( Feb. 2023) A sea of sparkling ripples when it shines, A mystic place with misty hills in rain. One shade the more, one ray the less, Can barely touch the nameless grace. A toast to West Lake for her rare beauty Like Xishi, and her values, shine or rain. Notes: 1.     West Lake: a most beautiful lake in Hangzhou, near Shanghai (still a popular tourist destination today); 2.     “‘One shade the more, one ray the less,/had half impaired the nameless grace.’”: borrowed from Byron’s famous poem “She Walks in Beauty” for imaginative association; 3.     Xishi (西施/西子): one of the four most admired beauties in ancient China, namely, Xishi, Wang Zhaojun, Diaochan and Yang Yuhuan. Xishi lived in the State of Yue during the Spring and Autumn period (770-476 BC). Appreciation: This famous poem was written while Su Shi served as the Magistrate of Hangzhou (1071–1074). It was a happy time for him, filled with beautiful memories shared with family and friends. Even today, the people of Hangzhou think of him fondly, calling him "The Legendary Mayor Su Shi" for everything he did for their city.   This short, four-line poem (known as 7-Jue verse) is loved all over China. It’s so catchy and sweet that it’s often sung to children to cheer them up. Like all great art, it uses simple words that everyone can understand, but it also has a deeper meaning for those who look closer. To Su Shi, the lake was more than just water; it represented a person’s inner strength. No matter how many hard times his political rivals put him through, he stayed true to himself—beautiful and steady, "come rain or shine".   The English version can be regarded as a recreation that can stand on its own, capturing the lake’s "nameless grace" through a warm tone. First, the use of the word "values" in the final line perfectly connects the lake’s beauty with Su Shi’s spirit. Second, by setting the poem as a "toast" to the lake, it avoids dry, literal styles and instead revives the poet’s "heroic and romantic quality", making a 1,000-year-old masterpiece feel fresh for a modern audience. Reference: 1. Blooming Alone in Winter by Gordon Osing, Julia Min and Huang Haipeng，published by the People's Publication House Henan Province in 1990 (《寒心未肯随春态》戈登.奥赛茵，闵晓红，黄海鹏) (" Drinking Wine by West Lake After Rain : The waters gleam and ripple freshly after a good rain;/She’s no less rare or lovely among the misting hills./I see her captivating as Xi Zi of ancient song,/Changing pale colors for bright, and always the more beautiful.”) 2. “One shade the more, one ray the less,/had half impaired the nameless grace.” : borrowed from Byron’s famous poem “She Walks in Beauty” for an associating imagination; 3. painting from Google；

醉书 （六月二十七日望湖楼） 原作: 苏轼（字子瞻, 号东坡居士; 11世纪北宋） 新版英译及赏析: 闵晓红(2023) 旧版英译:戈登.奥赛茵, 闵晓红, 黄海鹏(1990) 黑云翻墨未遮山， 白雨跳珠乱入船。 卷地风来忽吹散， 望湖楼下水如天。 Drinking lines for the West Lake (at the Lakeside Pavilion, Hangzhou, 27 June, 1072) Chinese original by Su Shi New En. version+ annot. by Julia Min (2023) old En. version by G. Osing, J. Min & H. Huang (1990)   A tide of cloud surges rolling ink past the hills. White pearls of rain dance into my little boat. Then quick as the scene’s swept, the storm’s left. Where lake melts into sky, the porch cannot tell.  Appreciation: This poem is the first in a series of five Su Shi wrote while governing Hangzhou. Like a masterful handscroll painting, it begins with this intimate, first-hand experience on the boat, before panning out to the broader, contemplative view from the Lakeside Pavilion.   The poem itself unfolds like a dynamic sketch of the weather. It opens with the swift, ink-wash strokes of a storm—dark clouds rolling, rain dancing—only for the scene to be swept clean by a sudden wind. The final vista is one of profound stillness, where lake and sky merge into a seamless, tranquil whole. This rapid transition is more than just scenic drama; it feels like a lens on life itself. The initial turbulence mirrors passing troubles, while the expansive calm suggests a deeper, enduring harmony. This movement from chaos to clarity, from separation to unity, resonates with Daoist acceptance of nature's flowing changes. In the end, the poem masterfully layers all these meanings—vivid observation, philosophical insight, and personal serenity—into a single, panoramic moment that continues to reveal itself long after the first reading. Reference: 1. Blooming Alone in Winter by Gordon Osing, Julia Min and Huang Haipeng，published by the People's Publication House Henan Province in 1990 (《寒心未肯随春态》戈登.奥赛茵，闵晓红，黄海鹏) ("Drinking lines for the West Lake (in Hangzhou on June 27th) / Black clouds roll, ink almost flooding the hills, / Great raindrops dance around my boat like jewels; / Then, quick as the scene’s swept, the clouds dispelled,Where Lake becomes the sky my porch can’t tell.") 3. pictures from Google；

贺新郎.乳燕飞华屋 原作: 苏轼（11世纪北宋） 英译: 闵晓红(2023) 乳燕飞华屋， 悄无人、桐阴转午， 晚凉新浴。 手弄生绡白团扇， 扇手一时似玉。 渐困倚、孤眠清熟。 帘外谁来推绣户？ 枉教人梦断瑶台曲。 又却是、风敲竹。 石榴半吐红巾蹙, （cù） 待浮花浪蕊都尽， 伴君幽独。 秾艳一枝细看取， 芳心千重似束。 又恐被、秋风惊绿。 若待得君来向此， 花前对酒不忍触。 共粉泪、两簌簌。( sù) When a young swallow flies up the mansion —to the tune of “The First Flight of the Young Swallow” Chinese original: Su Shi English version: Julia Min When a young swallow flies up the mansion, no one is there to see. The parasol tree gathers its own noon-shadow; then a lady steps from her bath into the cool of the evening. Her hand, idle yet busy, waves a round fan of fine silk, Both fan and hand are as jade, as poetry in motion. Even so, she slowly wearies, reclines and drifts on dream-wings. But who is it, knocking beyond her brocade blinds? Not him, just bamboo shadows shaking in the wind. When spring’s bright petals and stamens fall away, no one comes to soothe this loneliness, only pomegranates, half-crowned, red scarves folded in. Look closely at any glowing branch: each bloom is heavy with yearning, afraid to fall if startled by the autumn wind. Yet still, she holds on until the long-awaited appearance, to raise a tearful toast to her own beauty, knowing too this is her final crowning moment of blossoming. Appreciation: In China, the pomegranate symbolises passion, fertility, peace, and prosperity. In this sentimental  ci  poem, Su Shi adopts the voice of a lonely lady whose melancholy deepens as spring fades. The poem may have been composed during an intellectual gathering where musical courtesans performed new lyrics to pre-existing tunes—a popular practice in the Tang and Song Dynasties known as “writing new  ci  to old tunes.” Though superficially about a solitary beauty and flowers, such poems often carried deeper layers of meaning, expressing the writer’s personal or political sentiments. This piece is a fine example of that dual-theme tradition. The hidden theme here could well be Su Shi’s growing disappointment with the Royal Court during a period of decline, which culminated in his banishment to Huizhou. According to Chen Gu in his book on famous people of the Song, Dongpo’s concubine Zhaoyun had the nickname “Liuhua” (i.e. Pomegranate Flower). She was the only one to follow him to Huizhou (a very desolate place then) after he was banished again at the age of 58 in 1094. Not only was she gifted in singing, but she was also praised for her strength as a loyal companion. Su Shi valued her dearly as a soul mate. She was perhaps the only comfort for Su Shi other than poetry, but not for long. The severe climate and living conditions of Huizhou took her away two years later. She was only 34. FYI, this is Deepseek’s comment: “Julia Min's version is a poetic re-creation for the contemporary literary readership. She sacrifices formal constraints to build a sustained, atmospheric and psychological portrait that many argue captures the essence of Su Shi's emotional landscape—loneliness, latent desire, and the pathos of beauty in isolation—more fully for a modern audience.” “Her interpolations ("as poetry in motion," "final crowning moment") are not betrayals but amplifications—using the tools of modern English lyricism to build the precise aesthetic and emotional atmosphere that the original  ci  built with its own classical tools. She trusts her reader to navigate subtlety.” Do you agree? Let me know what you think. Reference: 1. Blooming Alone in Winter by Gordon Osing, Julia Min and Huang Haipeng，published by the People's Publication House Henan Province in 1990 (《寒心未肯随春态》戈登.奥赛茵，闵晓红，黄海鹏) ("“To the Tune of Hexinglang” -- When the young swallow winged over the grand mansion,/No one was home to see, filling its own noon-shadow, the parasol tree. /Now from her bath at evening’s cool a lady comes./Her hand is idle if busy as her white, round silken fan, both seeming jade. /Even at this she gradually wearies, reclines, and passes into sleep. /But who’s that, at the outside curtain, knocking at her gate?/Nothing more than the wind shaking the bamboo together. //The red scarf folds of the half-bloomed pomegranate/Could comfort, Lady, your still loneliness./Look closely at any of her bright branches;/In each bloom’s fragrance is enfolded the heart of a girl,/Fearing only the dry winds of Autumn, that startle, leaving her green./If I delay until you come to this /I’ll not have heart to toast your weathered flower./Then two will weep together, hour by hour.") 2. 百度百科网站: 南宋 陈鹄 《 耆旧续闻 》录陆辰州语，说晁以道在看到东坡真迹后转告陆辰州说：苏轼有妾名朝云、榴花。朝云客死岭南，惟榴花独存，故苏词下阕专说榴花，并有“待浮花浪蕊都尽，伴君幽独”之语。 3. picture from Google；

行香子.清夜无尘 原作: 苏轼（11世纪北宋） 英译旧版: 戈登.奥赛茵, 闵晓红, 黄海鹏(1990) 英版修改: 闵晓红(2023) 清夜无尘，月色如银。 酒斟时，须满十分。 浮名浮利，虚苦劳神。 叹隙中驹，石中火，梦中身。 虽抱文章，开口谁亲？ 且陶陶，乐尽天真。 几时归去，做个闲人。 对一张琴，一壶酒，一溪云。 The Night Is Pure —to the tune of Xingxiangzi   Chinese original: Su Shi (1084) English version: Julia Min (2025)   The night is pure, The moonlight, soft silver, I’d pour wine till my cup’s brimming. Why serve for fame and profit, chasing — a flashlight in a crack, a stone spark that sears, and a dream self in the air.   There are worlds I hold in mind, Yet, where could I share? I’d rather be away and be free, for a simple country life — together with my Qin for music, and a full jug of wine， by a cloud-drifting river. Appreciation: Composed after he returned to the Royal Court in 1086, this ci poem is no longer a timeless sigh but a sensational monologue spoken over wine with a trusted friend. The opening lines—"The night is pure... I’d fill my cup till it brims over"—become a vivid stage setting. The "purity" of the night contrasts with the "dust" of court politics he has just left behind in conversation. Overfilling the cup is a deliberate, symbolic gesture of excess and cleansing.   Every image sharpens under this light. Chasing fame is not merely vain—it is a “flashlight in a crack,” a small, futile beam against the dark. The question “where could I share?” echoes with the loneliness of a voice that has lost its public stage.   And so, the closing vision is not an escape but a conscious embrace and a promise of a freer self. The qin, the lyre of the Chinese soul, is not a prop—it is his new voice. The wine, the river, the clouds: these become his chosen companions, the elements of a life reclaimed.   A powerful Western resonance can be found in the work of W. B. Yeats (1865-1939), specifically his poem "The Lake Isle of Innisfree". Reference: Blooming Alone in Winter by Gordon Osing, Julia Min and Huang Haipeng， published by the People's Publication House Henan Province in 1990 (《寒心未肯随春态》戈登.奥赛茵，闵晓红，黄海鹏) ("The night is pure, free of the commotions of dust, the moonlight silver./Pouring the wine into my cup, I’d see it over-filled./What a waste to slave in vain for fame and profit, both bubbles…/A white steed racing in a rift -- stone sparks -- a dream of self.//For though I had worlds in mind to say to others, who will share?/Be glad as you can, my heart, content to be simply entertained. /When can I return to my mountains, be unofficial, freed/To face my old qin, a pot of wine, and a stream of clouds. ") 2. painting from Google；