蝶恋花 . 花褪残红青杏小 原作：苏东坡 (11世纪) 英译：闵晓红（2022） 花褪残红青杏小。 燕子飞时， 绿水人家绕。 枝上柳绵吹又少。 天涯何处无芳草。 墙里秋千墙外道。 墙外行人， 墙里佳人笑。 笑渐不闻声渐悄。 多情却被无情恼。 When Catkins Vanish in the Weakening Wind — to the tune “Butterflies in Love with Flowers”  Chinese original: Su Dongpo (Su Shi, 11th century) English version: Julia Min (2025)   When catkins vanish in the weakening wind, spring blossoms yield to apricots, still green. Swallows wheel round houses, skim the waters; There is splendour in grass, as glory in flowers.   Behind the walls, some girls laugh on swings. before the walls, a traveller, in pensive motion. Slowly, the cheers of joy fade into the distance— the innocence of spring, the yearnings of autumn. For appreciation: This poem was most likely composed during Su Dongpo’s exile in Huangzhou, Hubei Province, a period marked by both political marginalisation and profound spiritual transcendence. Its structure is built on a series of contrasts: youth and age, joy and melancholy, enclosure and exposure, and, at a deeper level, the favoured “new party” within the Song court and the banished “old party” outside it. In the first stanza, the poet introduces the passing of spring. The fading blossoms, green apricots, wheeling swallows, and flourishing grass collectively suggest transformation rather than loss. Although decline is visible, Dongpo deliberately turns the tone, as often in his poems, towards consolation: “there is splendour in grass, as glory in flowers.” This line serves as philosophical self-reassurance—an assertion that life’s value does not reside solely in brilliance and success. It reflects the mature optimism of a mind tempered by experience, an understanding that plenitude persists even as forms change. This is the “philosophic mind” that emerges only with age and endurance.   The second stanza sharpens the emotional contrast and deepens the poem’s political implications. The laughter of young girls within the walls represents carefree innocence and untroubled favour, while the lonely traveller outside embodies exile, reflection, and thwarted ambition. As the laughter gradually fades, so too does the poet’s connection to official life and recognition. The concluding line delivers a restrained yet piercing irony: “the sentimental is troubled by the heartless.” Here, Dongpo employs the antonyms inside and outside not merely as spatial markers but as moral and emotional symbols—the inside signifying unthinking privilege, the outside bearing the weight of conscience and compassion.   Thus, the poem is both a lyrical meditation on seasonal change and a subtle, sardonic commentary on political injustice. Without bitterness or overt protest, Su Dongpo transforms personal disappointment into reflective insight, allowing restraint, balance, and humanity to speak more powerfully than complaint – all achieved in plain, simple everyday language.   A similar sentiment is shared in an English poem “Dover Beach” by Mathew Arnold: “The world inside laughs; the thinker stands outside.” -- a sense of historical and personal displacement, and a solitary observer watching innoc ence retreat.  In  additio n, ‘splendour in grass’ and ‘the glory in flowers’ are borrowed from Wordsworth’s verses: "...The radiance which was once so bright Is now forever taken from my sight. Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass Of glory in the flower We will grieve not Rather find strength in what remains behind.” Reference: Blooming Alone in Winter by Gordon Osing, Julia Min and Huang Haipeng，published by the People's Publication House Henan Province in 1991 (《寒心未肯随春态》戈登.奥赛茵，闵晓红，黄海鹏) (“It's time for flowers to fade and wither; the tiny apricots are green./And swallows dart over the fish ponds around the houses./ The wind can't scatter the catkin willows any more./Where is not the spice of all things growing?//Inside a wall a lady swings, outside I have my road, apart./Outside the wall a wanderer walking, inside a lady's pretty laughing./It seems that laughter fades forever on the wanderer's ears;/He feels too much and knows that laughing knows no heart.”) ChatGPT; pictures from 汪国新

永遇乐. 明月如霜 (彭城夜宿燕子楼，梦盼盼，因作此词) 原文：苏轼 英译：闵晓红 明月如霜，好风如水， 清景无限。曲港跳鱼，圆荷泻露， 寂寞无人见。紞如三鼓，铿然一叶， 黯黯梦云惊断。 夜茫茫, 重寻无处， 觉来小园行遍。 天涯倦客，山中归路， 望断故园心眼。 燕子楼空，佳人何在， 空锁楼中燕。古今如梦，何曾梦觉， 但有旧欢新怨。异时对、黄楼夜景， 为余浩叹。 The moon’s frost white - to the tune of “Everlasting Joy” Chinese original: Su Shi ( 11th century) English version: Julia Min   The moon’s frost white, the wind, freshly cool. An endless stillness -- till a fish breaks the winding pool. Dews slide down lotus leaves. A loneliness without form. Three drumbeats from the dark mist; Then, one leaf falls.   Startled awake from deep sleep, A familiar sadness seizes me. Out in the garden I seek: “Where’re thee, beauty of my dream?” I feel her everywhere, yet nowhere can she be seen. The night stretches long, here in the far east.   Weary of the world, a traveller drained his heart’s eye of hope towards the western mountains, looking for the sign of home. The Swallow Pavilion, long empty, Where’s the beauty? Dust keeps its promises within; Only abandoned nests remain.   Past and present, Just dreams that never cease. What gathers in the mind -- old memories and new regrets. Someday, some visitors will climb my Yellow Pavilion. Before such a midnight scene, I wonder, will they sigh for me? Appreciation: In the Tang dynasty, the Swallow Pavilion was built by the military governor Zhang Jianfeng in Peng City (present-day Xuzhou) for his newlywed concubine, Guan Panpan, a renowned singer and dancer. The pavilion stood by a lake and soon attracted many swallows to nest there, giving it its name. After Zhang’s death, Guan Panpan lived on, refusing to remarry, remaining faithful to his memory. Her story became a lasting poetic symbol of lost love and unfulfilled happiness.   This ci poem was composed in 1078, shortly after Su Shi completed his own architectural project, the Yellow Pavilion, during his tenure as governor of Xuzhou. One night, Su Shi stayed at the Swallow Pavilion and is said to have dreamed of the brief appearance of the beautiful lady’s spirit. The late-autumn night scene under a full moon—a recurring motif in Chinese poetry—often evokes a sense of love once whole but now irretrievably lost.   Su Shi’s political circumstances deepen the poem’s melancholy at the time. His position at court was increasingly precarious amid fierce factional conflict. Daoist thought offered him solace, turning his mind toward nature and toward his homeland in the western mountains of Sichuan. Throughout his life, this tension persisted: whether to devote himself fully to official service or to withdraw into reclusion. Yet Su Shi was ultimately a man shaped by his age and its currents—deeply engaged with the world, unable to relinquish public responsibility entirely for a Daoist life apart.   A Western analogue may be found in Wordsworth’s “Tintern Abbey,” where reflection before a familiar landscape becomes a meditation on memory, loss, and the divided self across time. Reference: 古诗文网https:// so.gushiwen.cn/ ChatGPT All pictures are selected from google search.

浣溪沙 . 簌簌衣巾落枣花（其三） 原作：苏轼 英译：戈登.奥赛茵，闵晓红 簌簌衣巾落枣花， 村南村北响缲车。 牛衣古柳卖黄瓜。 酒困路长惟欲睡， 日高人渴漫思茶， 敲门试问野人家。 Blossoms of date trees rain down on shirts and kerchiefs  - to the tune of Huanxisha Chinese original: Su Shi (11 th  century) Old English version: G. Osing, J. Min & H. Huang (1991) New English version: Julia Min (2025)   Blossoms of date trees rain down on shirts and kerchiefs, The village hums with joy as spinning wheels grow busy. An old man in cape sells cucumbers by an old willow tree.   And me, drinking wine along the way drowsing in fatigue. The sun is high and I feel dry, really, for a cup of tea; - Good as home is the first door here in the hills I can see. Appreciation: This is very much in Su Shi’s key: rustic detail, bodily fatigue, gentle humour, and sudden warmth at the end. A series of five short poems was composed there and then, reflecting the simple but intense lives of the villages he experienced during his stay, offering a glimpse of the lives of common subjects in artistic works, a change from the Tang’s ‘Glorious Grace’. It’s also a major shift in the East Renaissance.    In the spring of 1078, there was a drought around Xuzhou area where Su Shi, as the governor, led local people in prayers before altars for rains – a traditional service in China even in some remote countryside today. By early summer, the land was relieved by rains and followed with a harvest, so it was time to show gratitude to the gods.   For your information, the smell of the cocoons’ being boiled actually is anything but inviting, but it is fragrant to the people in times of good harvest after the long dry spell is lifted. Reference: Reference: Old version: 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) – “Blossoms of date trees rain down on shirts and kerchiefs/when, everywhere in the village, the spinning wheel is heard./An old man in his staw cape sells cucumbers under the oldest willow./And me? I’ve been drinking again along the way and want only to drowse./The sun is high and I’m thirsty, really, for a cup of tea./The first door I come to here in the hills is good as home.” 古诗文网https:// so.gushiwen.cn/ All pictures are selected from google search.

浣溪沙 . 麻叶层层苘叶光（其二） 苏轼 麻叶层层苘叶光， 谁家煮茧一村香? 隔篱娇语络丝娘。 垂白杖藜抬醉眼， 捋青捣麨软饥肠， 问言豆叶几时黄? Nothing beats arriving at a village ( PoemTwo） - to the tune of Huanxisha Chinese original: Su Dongpo English version: Julia Min (2025) Nothing beats arriving at a village filled with the aroma of boiling cocoons, and strolling through a piemarker’s foliage,- lush green fields glowing on a sunny afternoon. Women laugh as they chat through the fences, while winding cane giant katydids to the full. A tipsy elder leans on his goosefoot cane, gathering some green grain to pound it for food. I asked if the bean leaves would go golden soon. Appreciation: For appreciation, please go to the last poem in this series: " Blossoms of date trees rain down on shirts and kerchiefs " Reference: Old version:   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) – “Through dense foliage of hemp, brushing aside branches of piemarker, shining and luxuriant./What’s better than coming to a village filled with the fragrance of boiling cocoons?/The ladies go on chatting through the fences, winding all the while cane giant katydids./A white-haired fellow on his goose-foot cane raises drunk eye-lids/And goes on gathering the green grain to pound for food for hungry bellies/ I can’t help asking how soon the bean leaves will turn yellow.” baike.baidu.com (百度百科) picture selected from Google search.

卜算子. 缺月挂疏桐 （黄州定慧院寓居作） 原作：苏东坡 (11世纪) 英译：闵晓红（2022） 缺月挂疏桐， 漏断人初静。 谁见幽人独往来？ 飘缈孤鸿影。 惊起却回头， 有恨无人省。 拣尽寒枝不肯栖， 寂寞沙洲冷。 A Waning Moon Descended the Parasol Tree （composed at Dinghui Monastery,Huangzhou） -       to the tune of Busuanzi written by Su Dongpo（11th century） translated by Julia Min (2025)   A waning moon descended the parasol tree near a wanderer in the dark -- just the old me. The night smiled calmly as water clock ceased, and a goose lingered alone in the judging mist.   It startled into the air, turned his head to check, His regret found only a place barren and bleak. No company, no home on cold branches to rest, Just a stubborn sense of pride on a sandy beach. For appreciation: Composed in 1082 during his first career downturn after being banished from the Royal Court to this remote little town of Huangzhou (in today’s Hubei Province), located on the north bank of the Yangtze River. He arrived here in 1080 with his family and had to live in a modest house in Dinghui Monastery, still under the oversight of the town’s magistrate. Without any income from government, he had to plough the fields for food like the local farmers – a challenge that tested his tolerance and endurance, but it also shaped him into a resilient and gracious mind, as well as a great poet, calligrapher, and painter. Huangzhou indeed witnessed most of his greatest works, cherished for a thousand years onward.   The poem includes a few metaphorical touches. A waning moon suggests a decline in life. A parasol tree symbolises decent and noble qualities, as it is the only tree the king of birds, the phoenix in China, would rest upon. Here, the leafless parasol tree in winter represents a miserable time for a noble being. The goose is simply a personification of the poet himself. Chinese culture has long regarded the wild geese as symbols of loyalty, trust, and devoted love for family.  The concluding lines are seen as his courage to face challenges and resist drifting away with the social current.   The mood and tone remind me of Du Fu's "A Solitary Wild Goose" (《孤雁》), and in the western world, Samuel Taylor Coleridge's "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" --"Alone, alone, all, all alone, / Alone on a wide wide sea!"    Reference: 1. Blooming Alone in Winter by Gordon Osing, Julia Min and Huang Haipeng，published by the People's Publication House Henan Province in 1991 (《寒心未肯随春态》戈登.奥赛茵，闵晓红，黄海鹏) (“A waning moon hung in the Decembered limbs of the parasol tree,/The top of the hourglass is empty, and people are deeply asleep./Who’ll see the loneliness of my coming and going/In the mists, faint as that shadow of a swan.//Startled into the air, looking back startled?/But no one cares about the disdains of such an one./Who would not take shelter in all the frozen branches,/Wants no chances but choosing rest in wintered sand.”) 2. pictures from baike.baidu.com（百度百科）

望江南·春未老  （ 超然台作） 原作：【宋】苏轼 (11th Century) 英译：闵晓红（ 2025） 春未老，风细柳斜斜。 试上超然台上望， 半壕春水一城花。 烟雨暗千家。 寒食后，酒醒却咨嗟。 休对故人思故国， 且将新火试新茶。 诗酒趁年华。 When Spring is not yet old (written on the Transcending Tower) - to the tune of Wangjiangnan   original composed by: Su Dong-po (11th Century) English version by Julia Min ( 2025) When Spring is not yet old, Soft wind gently kissing the willows, Come to the Transcending Tower with me, To see the town’s blooms embraced by the moat, Gleaming through the misty rain on many homes. After Forbidden Fire, a day of cold, I woke up, still a little tipsy, full of woes. Why all this sentiment among friends of old? Let's try the new tea brewed on the new wood, And spend our best years tasting wine and poems. Picture retrieved from Google Appreciation: Standing in Mizhou (modern Zhucheng, Shandong), the Transcending Tower was a building rebuilt by Su Shi during his governorship and named by his beloved brother, Su Zhe. In the spring of 1076, from this vantage point, Su Shi watched a scene that stirred a profound meditation on memory and belonging. It was the time of the Festival of Forbidden Fires, a two-day period preceding Qingming. This festival recalls the ancient, tragic tale of Zi-tui, a loyal follower so wounded by his king's neglect that he chose to perish in a mountain fire rather than accept a belated reward.   For Su Shi, this story of ultimate sacrifice and honour cast a long shadow. As the living paid tribute to their ancestors—tidying tombs and honouring the dead—the traveller Su Shi felt a strong sense of absence. In this masterpiece, he transformed the universal symbols of the season—the fresh willows, the spring flowers, the moat's reflective waters—into something intensely personal. This is not merely a description of nature, but a soul's melancholy. He painted the landscape with his own longing, bringing a lyrical intimacy that a Western reader would instantly recognise as profoundly romantic. One can almost hear a distant echo from Wordsworth in his solitary gaze, finding the universal within the deeply personal.   Notes:  1.Forbidden Fire Day, or Cold Food Festival, two days before Qingming Festival. People were not allowed to make fires, so no hot food on that day. 3. ‘斜’and ‘嗟’ in the original：the modern pinyin doesn’t rhyme in the poem, so these two, I reckon, are likely pronounced as ‘xiá’ and ‘jiā’ in the Song Capital Bianliang ( today’s Kaifeng city in Henan Province). Reference： 1. Blooming Alone in Winter by Gordon Osing, Julia Min and Huang Haipeng (《寒心未肯随春态》戈登.奥赛茵，闵晓红，黄海鹏) “From Heavenward Pavilion – to the tune of Wangjiangnan – The spring is not yet old and a soft wind mixes the willow branches./Come up onto Heavenward Pavilion to see with me,/ See the half-full moat this Spring, watering a whole city’s blooms./The fog and mists of the Spring rains envelope so many homes./After the Festival of Forbidden Fires. I woke-up drunk, turned-over, and sighed,/Don’t think about homesickness when you’re with old friends./Let’s make a fresh fire and boil new tea together./How fine to spend our best years drinking poems and wine.” Pinying and Word -For-Word Translation: wàng jiāng nán - the musical tune for this ci poem（Looking at South of the River） （chāo rán tái zuò ）- (write on Transcending Platform) chūn wèi lǎo - spring not yet old， fēng xì liǔ xiá xiá - wind soft willows swaying back and forth。 shì shàng chāo rán tái shàng wàng - try go up to transcending platform to see， bàn háo chūn shuǐ yī chéng huā - half full moat spring waters a whole town flowers。 yān yǔ àn qiān jiā - smoke rain gloomy thousand homes。 hán shí hòu - after the Cold Food Festival, jiǔ xǐng què zī jiā - drunk awake but sigh。 xiū duì gù rén sī gù guó - stop before old friend miss home / native place， qiě jiāng xīn huǒ shì xīn chá - let's try new fire to new tea， shī jiǔ chèn nián huá -poems wine spend golden years。

浣溪沙 . 旋抹红妆看使君（其一） 原作：苏轼 英译：戈登.奥赛茵，闵晓红 旋抹红妆看使君， 三三五五棘篱门。 相挨踏破茜罗裙。 老幼扶携收麦社， 乌鸢翔舞赛神村。 道逢醉叟卧黄昏。 The women rush home for a touch of makeup (Poem One) --to the tune of Huanxisha Original Chinese: Su Dongpo English version: Julia Min (2025)   The women rush home for a touch of makeup, back in threes and fives as the governor comes. At their thorn-fenced gates, they jostle on tiptoe, Scuffing the trains of their new crimson robes.      Folk songs and drums call the gods to the streets. The crows and eagles dive low in greedy sweeps. By dusk, no one’s around but me, half drunk,-- A cheerful old man dozing off in the settling dust. Appreciation: For appreciation, please go to the last poem in this series: Blossoms of date trees rain down on shirts and kerchiefs . Reference: 1. baike.baidu.com (百度百科) 5. All pictures are selected from google search.

江城子·十年生死两茫茫 （乙卯正月二十日夜记梦） 苏轼 十年生死两茫茫， 不思量，自难忘， 千里孤坟 无处话凄凉。 纵使相逢应不识， 尘满面，鬓如霜。 夜来幽梦忽还乡， 小轩窗，正梳妆， 相顾无言，唯有泪千行。 料得年年肠断处， 明月夜，短松冈。 It's ten years you're gone and I'm living - to the tune of Jiangchengzi (my dream on January 20th,1075) Chinese original: Su Shi ( 11th Century) old English version: G. Osing, J. Min & H. Huang(1991) new English version: Julia Min (2025) It’s ten years you’re gone, and I’m living, in two worlds apart, and wearing. I’ve tried to feign a numb forgetting, Yet memory lives in death, forever staying. A thousand miles away lies your resting place; To whom can this loneliness be confessed? You would not know me by now: Time has silvered my temples and laid its dusty trace across my brow.   In the hush of night when dreams run deep, you return to me, still young, still fair; -- by the latticed window, poised in grace, soft hands adorning your long hair. Our eyes meet and freeze, -- a silent speech softening into tears. Then the dream shatters, leaving only thin air. Where ur small pines cried in cold moonlight, my heart grows thinner year on year. Picture retrieved from Google Notes: 1. ‘It's ten years …’: Su Shi's wife Wang Fu died in 1065 and was buried in Pengshan County, Sichuan Province, quite far from Mizhou where Dongpo wrote this poem. 2. ‘ridge of pines’: the site of her burial was within Su Shi’s family burial yard where Dongpo planted, as the legend has it, 3000 pine trees for her and his father as they were buried there at the same time. For Appreciation: This poem is widely regarded as one of the earliest and most touching elegies written in the ci form. Unlike the grand, rhetorical mourning poems of earlier times, this ci is characterised by a quiet intimacy with a brief tender moment they once shared.   When Su Shi composed this poem in 1075, ten years had passed since the death of his first wife, Wang Fu. During that decade, he himself had experienced major political ups and downs, with dramatic shifts in various official posts. Yet the loss that remained most vivid—perhaps the one untouched by time—was the memory of his wife.   The poem’s second stanza is particularly admired: a dream of domestic simplicity, free from flowering rhetoric. It recalls a small, private scene: her small, crafted window, her dressing table, her loosened hair, and two people gazing at each other as if words had no play. In the understated authenticity of this memory, scholars find an enduring tenderness rarely matched in classical literature.   What gives the poem its lasting effect is its subtlety. Dongpo does not lament loudly; instead, he preserves love through ordinary details —gestures, familiar postures, unspoken emotions. This demonstrates the unique ability of ci poetry to express subtle, deeply human feelings: grief without despair, longing without excess, memory without artifice.   This elegy stands today not only as a testament to Su Shi’s personal sorrow but also as a masterpiece that enriches the expressive possibilities of Song-dynasty literature, illuminating how love, even in loss, can transcend the boundaries of time.   You may also compare this elegy with a dream-vision counterpart in the West, where you’ll find similar sentiments in John Milton’s sonnet: “Methought I saw my late espoused saint” written after the death of Milton’s second wife. The wife appears in a dream, radiant, silent, unreachable. The poem ends with awakening—loss renewed: “I waked, she fled, and day brought back my night.” Reference： 1. old English version: Blooming Alone in Winter by Gordon Osing, Julia Min and Huang Haipeng，published by the People's Publication House Henan Province in 1991 (《寒心未肯随春态》戈登.奥赛茵，闵晓红，黄海鹏) – “January12,1075: My Dream – to the tune of jiangchengzi”(It’s ten years now you’re gone and I’m living, worlds apart and fading./If I’ve tried hard not to miss you, I say also I can’t forget./It’s a thousand miles to your tomb; to whom can I tell my loneliness?/You’d not know me now, my face so lined, my temples frosted.//In the mist of my dream-world at night I go home once again/And watch you adorning yourself carefully in your dressing room./Our eyes meet, we’re together in silence, the dream ends in tears./I swear my heart breaks further each year/where the moon brightens your ridge of little pines.)   Pinying and Word -For-Word Translation: jiāng chéng zǐ （yǐ mǎo zhèng yuè èr shí rì yè jì mèng ）- to the tune of Jiangchengzi --- a night dream on January 20 in 1075 ( 3 days after the first full moon, Chinese calendar) shí nián shēng sǐ liǎng máng máng – ten years the alive and the dead both distant apart. bú sī liàng ，zì nán wàng – not always think about you but difficult to forget. qiān lǐ gū fén - thousand li desolate tomb, wú chù huà qī liáng – nowhere to tell loneliness. zòng shǐ xiàng féng yīng bú shí - even if we meet again, should not recognize, chén mǎn miàn ，bìn rú shuāng – dust covers my face, temples like frost. yè lái yōu mèng hū hái xiāng – at night gloomy dream suddenly return my native place. xiǎo xuān chuāng ，zhèng shū zhuāng - by small room window, she is making up. xiàng gù wú yán - face each other no word, wéi yǒu lèi qiān háng - only there are tears thousand lines. liào dé nián nián cháng duàn chù -guess year by year heart-broken place; míng yuè yè ，duǎn sōng gāng - bright moon night, short pine tree ridge

水调歌头·明月几时有 丙辰中秋，欢饮达旦，大醉，作此篇。兼怀子由。 苏轼 明月几时有，把酒问青天。 不知天上宫阙，今夕是何年？ 我欲乘风归去，又恐琼楼玉宇，高处不胜寒。 起舞弄清影，何似在人间！ 转朱阁，低绮户，照无眠。 不应有恨，何事长向别时圆？ 人有悲欢离合，月有阴晴圆缺，此事古难全。 但愿人长久，千里共婵娟。 When was the moon ever so bright? --to the tune ‘River Rhyme (prelude)’ (I wrote this in 1076 for the Moon Festival as well as for my brother Ziyou after drinking alone through the night.)   Chinese original: Su Shi ( 11 th  Century ) Old En. version: Gordon Osing & Julia Min(1990) New En. version: Julia Min (2025)   When was the Moon ever so bright? With a cup in hand filled with wine, I ask the vast, black-blue Empyrean. What year is it in Heaven tonight? Could I be taken there on a wind ride?   But I fear it must be cold up so high in the riches of the Moon's jade palace. I’d rather dance a satire to the rhymes, along with the lonely shadow of mine for some earthly vibes of humankind.   The Moon drifts past the red pavilion side, Lowers her cozy gaze across my chamber, Keeping me awake. Oh Brother, such is life! It’s been seven years since our last reunion. And when we’re apart, she’s full and bright!   It’s a spell beyond Heaven and Mankind. The moon waxes and wanes, dims and shines. We have ups n downs, welcomes n goodbyes. May we, now and always, be blissful at heart, and join under the one Goddess when apart. （ Other versions ( 许渊冲/林语堂) for your reference） Picture retrieved from Google Notes: 1.     ‘What year …’ : It is believed by the Chinese that three days in Heaven are equal to three years on earth , so the dates on Heaven and Earth differ. 2.     ‘the Moon’: Legend has it that there is a palace called Guang Han on the moon. The goddess Chang E is said to inhabit the moon palace, so she is also called ‘the Moon Goddess. Appreciation: For readers, one of the most inspiring sights is watching a great man struggle against adversity, from which his greatest works can arise. And this is a living example.   This masterpiece was written by Su Shi in Mizhou in 1076, a tough time for the poet because of his opposition to the New Law (proposed by Wang Anshi), which was approved and put into effect. Feeling estranged from the Emperor’s favour, he asked to be sent away from the court to serve as Mizhou’s mayor. His wife had left him, and he hadn’t seen his brother in seven years. He yearned to escape into the legendary jade palace of the Moon Goddess, a place of romantic art and beauty, and to live in seclusion away from the turmoil of the Song political scene. Yet, he was also cautious of the cold perfection of that celestial realm. After all, Su Shi is more a man of the world than a Daoist of fairylands.   It's the same tension between the longing for a perfect, secluded artistic ideal and the fearful, human rejection of its lifeless perfection in John Keats's "Ode on a Grecian Urn" (published 1820). The famous, chilling address ‘Cold Pastoral!’ pictures his "cold perfection of her empire." The urn is a ‘friend to man’ but offers a cold, philosophical consolation ("Beauty is truth...") from its immortal, silent distance. The poet, like Su Shi, ultimately stands in the world of "old age," "generations," and "woe," contemplating but not joining that frozen, perfect realm. In the end, he remains attached to the warm, suffering, and transient world.   Another poet coming to my mind is William Wordsworth, especially in poems like "Tintern Abbey" or "Ode: Intimations of Immortality." He longs for the perfect, seclusive vision of nature he experienced as a youth (a kind of natural "palace"), but later fears the loss of that "celestial light." However, he resolves not in cold artifice but in the "sober coloring" of adult human consciousness, memory, and love—the "world" of mature relationships.   Reference: The old English version: 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)  --" After Drinking All Night at the Bingchen Autumn Festival":"When was the moon ever so bright? I ask the blue-black empyrean./What year is it in Heaven? What year this evening?/Would that I could be taken there on the wind!/But I fear the cold riches of the jade moon's mansions,/So instead I'll dance a satire to my shadow, like nothing on earth.//The moon alters my red pavilion, threads through the silk door, keeps me awake;/Give-up hating realities, my brother; the moon grows fuller and brighter as we feel losses./ What else is it but sorrows, joys, partings and reunions,/As the moon is clouded or brilliant, empty or brimming./The arrangement is ancient, hardest to those seeking perfection./Now and always, peace to our hearts, sharing the same/far-away Goddess in the One Heaven.// Pinying and Word-For-Word Translation: shuǐ diào gē tóu - to the tune of Shuidiaogetou (bǐng chén zhōng qiū ，huān yǐn dá dàn ，dà zuì ，zuò cǐ piān 。jiān huái zǐ yóu ) - Bingchen year Mid-Autumn Festival, enjoy drinking to the next morning; heavily drunk, compose this ci, also miss Ziyou; míng yuè jǐ shí yǒu - bright moon when have; bǎ jiǔ wèn qīng tiān - hold a cup of wine and ask dark-blue sky; bú zhī tiān shàng gōng què - not know in Heaven Palace; jīn xī shì hé nián - this evening is what year; wǒ yù chéng fēng guī qù – I wish to fly on wind to return; yòu kǒng qióng lóu yù yǔ - but afraid jade towers jade mansions; gāo chù bú shèng hán - high place not bear the cold; qǐ wǔ nòng qīng yǐng - start dancing, make fun with my shadows; hé sì zài rén jiān - what like in human world; zhuǎn zhū gé - the moon turns around red pavilion; dī qǐ hù - lowers light into the crafted doors and windows; zhào wú mián – so much light, no sleep; bú yīng yǒu hèn – should not have hatred; hé shì zhǎng xiàng bié shí yuan – why is it often full and bright when we are parted; rén yǒu bēi huān lí hé – humans have sorrows joys departures reunions; yuè yǒu yīn qíng yuán quē – the moon is cloudy clear wax or wane; cǐ shì gǔ nán quán – such has been difficult for perfection since ancient times; dàn yuàn rén zhǎng jiǔ – only wish we have each other for a long time; qiān lǐ gòng chán juān -thousand li share Chanjuan;

南乡子·重九涵辉楼呈徐君猷 原作：苏轼 英译：戈登.奥赛茵，闵晓红 霜降水痕收， 浅碧鳞鳞露远洲。 酒力渐消风力软， 飕飕， 破帽多情却恋头。 佳节若为酬， 但把清尊断送秋。 万事到头都是梦， 休休， 明日黄花蝶也愁。 A Toast on the Double Nineth Festival (to Xu Junyou at Hanhui Tower) --composed to the tune of Nanxiangzi           Chinese original by: Su Shi ( 11 th  AC)      English Version by: Julia Min   Since First Frost, the river recedes to shallows, distant sandbars revealed with gleaming ripples. The wine’s magic slowly leaves me to a breeze, Hissing, hissing - Ruffling through my old hat for old memories.   What gift have I to honour this hallowed time? But your wine, to pour for Autumn’s final prime. Someday, everything we cherish will disappear, Near and nigh - As chrysanthemums fall to butterflies' despair. Appreciation: On the Double Ninth Festival of 1082, a man found himself nearing fifty yet further away from achieving his ambition. For nearly four years, Su Shi had lived in exile in Huangzhou, a fallen star from the Song court. His official host—and de facto warden—was Governor Xu Junyou. Yet, in a twist of fate, Xu had proven not a jailer but a brother, sustaining the poet through the long aftermath of the "Crows Platform Poem Case." As they would often do in the Song after a few rounds of wine in Hanhui Tower, Xu called for a verse. Su Shi's response was immediate and profound. What flowed from his brush was a toast to autumn and a sigh for a life that is, in the end, a fleeting dream. The poem captures a moment of painful clarity: his prime has slipped away, his political dreams are dissolving, and he must now make peace with his fate in the dusty quiet of Huangzhou. Reference: 1. Blooming Alone in Winter by Gordon Osing, Julia Min and Huang Haipeng (《寒心未肯随春态》戈登.奥赛茵，闵晓红，黄海鹏) “On the Double Ninth Festival at Hanhui Pavilion” (By Frost’s Descent the water level falls/ To shallows glittering like clear dcales, disclosing sands./The way wine’s power slowly leaves the mind to a light wind,/Rustling my worn-out hat full of tenderness, that loves my head./How can I honor a special, festival time?/I’ve only this cup of wine to say farewell to autumn./Everything at last turns back into thin air./It’s over: tomorrow the mums wither and the butterflies despair.) 2. picture from https://www.sohu.com/a/349362465_727694

I Can Live Without Meat in Food (for Monk Huijue at his Green Bamboo Veranda) Chinese original: Su Shi (11th AC, social name 'Zizhan', art name 'Dongpo') English translation & annotation: Julia Min (Jan. 2025) I can live without meat in food, But can’t without bamboo in view. Without meat body will lose weight, Without bamboo life will lose taste. It’s easy to gain a good weight, But not so to gain a good taste. It seems a stubborn lofty pretence, And you may laugh at what I say. If you munch in his noble presence, You won’t ascend the Yangzhou Crane. Su Shi's painting on stone and bamboo Notes: Yangzhou Crane: borrowed from a story in The Fables of Ying Yun（《殷云小说》）, where a group of ambitious young gentlemen boasted about their future plans in Yangzhou. One wished to attain a high position in the government, another said he would become extremely wealthy, but the third wanted to fill his pockets with silver and gold and fly a crane to the immortal world. Well, you know the result -- the crane wouldn't be able to fly with a heavy load. You can't have everything in life. Analysis:   This little poem serves as another example of the Song’s way of presenting profound philosophical ideas through simple, everyday language. As a result, the first four lines have become idiomatic expressions in Chinese. The poem reads like prose, with a tone that contrasts the theme of virtuous pursuit with vulgar tastes in human life, or perhaps offers an insight into the awareness of the ultimate purpose in this lifetime. The bamboo tree has been recognised as one of the Four Gentlemen (along with plum blossom, chrysanthemum, and orchid) in China. It symbolises noble elegance, upright honesty, and steadfast loyalty.   Yu Qian was a county within the territory of Lin'an City (in Hangzhou). There was a temple where Su Shi often spent time with Monk Huijue. The two friends would often enjoy tea in the bamboo yard and explore the value and virtues of social and natural worlds to better understand Zen ideas. This poem was written when Su Shi visited during his inspection of the county’s governance as the magistrate of Hangzhou.   Of the Four, he favours bamboo the most, as seen in his paintings. He even began using red paint for his bamboo artworks, which then established a unique style. I believe this is another example of his artistic focus on the theme rather than the form. 於潜僧绿筠轩 原作: 苏轼（字子瞻, 号东坡居士; 11世纪北宋） 宁可食无肉，不可居无竹。 无肉令人瘦，无竹令人俗。 人瘦尚可肥，士俗不可医。 旁人笑此言，似高还似痴。 若对此君仍大嚼，世间那有扬州鹤? Reference: gushiwen.cn picture from google

江城子 · 密州出猎 原作：【宋】苏轼 老夫聊发少年狂， 左牵黄，右擎苍， 锦帽貂裘，千骑卷平冈。 为报倾城随太守， 亲射虎，看孙郎。 酒酣胸胆尚开张， 鬓微霜，又何妨？ 持节云中，何日遣冯唐？ 会挽雕弓如满月， 西北望，射天狼。 Hunting Outside Mizhou -to the tune of Jiangchengzi Chinese original: Su Shi ( 11th Century) English old version: G. Osing, J. Min & H. Huang(1991) English new version: Julia Min (2023) This old boy's truly young at heart and mind, A retriever by left hand, a falcon on the right. In coats of fur and hats of brocade we ride, Thousands of hoofbeats swept the hills in sight. Like Sun Quan, the great archer, I’d shoot a tiger, To reward the town for following me to the site.   My old heart is fearless again, fired with wine. Does it matter that frost crowns my temples high? When will Feng Tang arrive with a tally in hand To order this  governor who’s ready to fight? Like the round moon, I’d tighten the bow; To the northwest, I’d shoot Sirius down! Notes: 1. Another title of this ci poem is “On Hunting.”“Mizhou” in the title is in today’s Jucheng County, Shandong Province. 2. 'this old boy': referring to himself at the time when he was forty years old. 3. 'Sun Quan': refers to Sun Quan of the Three Kingdoms Period, who was famous for hunting on horseback, especially for his driving off a tiger by throwing his empty weapon in its face in a famous episode in folklore. Like his father, Sun Quan was considered one of the best archers at the time. 4. 'Feng Tang': the governor of Yunzhong (under Emperor Wen of Han) who defeated an invasion by the Huns. When asked to report the tally of enemies killed, the governor exaggerated the number by six and was disgraced and sentenced to heavy punishment, including the loss of his governorship. Feng Tang, who interceded on behalf of the governor for the return of his post, arranged for a second, true tally to be brought forth, and the episode became famous for dramatising honesty in government. An tally was an order issued by the emperor to generals and envoys. A tally to Yunzhong would be one for the Yunzhong Prefecture in the Han Dynasty, a county in Inner Mongolia today. 5. 'Sirius': the brightest star in the northwest sky from where our poet had the event. It is used here as a symbol for the invaders, mainly the Mongols. For Appreciation: As governor of Mizhou (Nov. 1074 – Nov. 1076), Su Shi and his friends went hunting after their festive tour to a sacrificial ceremony. It is one of the poet's most heroic and vigorous ci poems, with the theme being inspiringly patriotic and dramatically bold and ambitious. Readers might also notice the poet's light-hearted pleasure in his success in public leadership, which reveals, both in reality and spirit, his optimistic enthusiasm for a dedicated official career serving the people.   The first stanza again focuses on the event, while the second stanza reflects on the day’s theme, offering his hindsight. The poetic vibe connects with a heroic tone that was seen as a challenge to the elegant and graceful style of the existing sentimental ci school. Alternatively, you could argue that Su Shi deliberately filled this gap with a heroic style, which was badly needed during the constant threats from the Huns and the Jin at the western and northern borders. The contrasting styles created a perfect balance of yin and yang, enriching the world of ci poetry and establishing it as a more independent and complete literary form, further distinguished from purely poetic works in literature.   Another piece in the same style is his “Meditating on the Past at the Red Cliff” ( 《念奴娇 . 赤壁怀古》), which is included in this selection, along with recital and analysis. Enjoy! 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) (“Hunting Outside Mizhou"-- "This old boy's truly young at heart at the sight:/My left hand's led by a retriever, a falcon rides my right./In coats of fur and hats of silk brocade we ride, / Thousands of hoofbeats over a low bridge./The whole town's turned-out to follow its governor, watching./When I shot my tiger, the people surely saw heroic Sun Chuan.// Fired with the wine, my old heart became fearless once again. /What does it matter if, truth to tell, frost covers my temples./When will honest Feng Tang come with the tally that saves the governor?/I will pull the bow tight and round as the moon when it is fullest./Northwest I aim; I shoot the invading Tianlang Star.") 2. Other versions for your reference（许渊冲） http://blog.sina.com.cn/s/blog_1534238f70102xgt4.html Pinyin and word-for-word translation: jiāng chéng zǐ . mì zhōu chū liè - to the tune of Jiangchengzi (outside Mizhou hunting) lǎo fū liáo fā shǎo nián kuáng - old man is being in youth's exuberate spirit; zuǒ qiān huáng ，yòu qíng cāng - left hand lead yellow hunting dog, right hold eagle; jǐn mào diāo qiú - silk brocade cap marten coat, qiān qí juàn píng gāng - thousand horses sweep smooth the ridge; wéi bào qīng chéng suí tài shǒu - to thank the whole city follow the governor; qīn shè hǔ ，kàn sūn láng - myself shoot tiger, let people see Sun Chuan; jiǔ hān xiōng dǎn shàng kāi zhāng - heated wine with breast bravery still open; bìn wēi shuāng ，yòu hé fáng ？- temples slightly frosty, what does it matter; chí jiē yún zhōng - hold a tally to Yunzhong; hé rì qiǎn féng táng ？- what day send Feng Tang; huì wǎn diāo gōng rú mǎn yuè - would draw carved bow like a full moon; xī běi wàng ，shè tiān láng - northwest looking shoot Sirius Star;