永遇樂 李清照

永遇樂     李清照(1084-1151)

落日熔金，暮雲合璧，人在何處？
染柳煙濃，吹梅笛怨，春意知幾許！
元宵佳節，融和天氣，次第豈無風雨？
來相召，香車寶馬，謝他酒朋詩侶。

中州盛日，閨門多暇，記得偏重三五。
鋪翠冠兒，捻金雪柳，簇帶爭濟楚。
如今憔悴，風鬟霧鬢，怕見夜間出去。
不如向、簾兒底下，聽人笑語。

Yong Yu Le           Li Qingzhao (1084-1151)

The setting sun’s flush is a layer of painted gold,

Colourful clouds heaping up like a platform of emerald,

Where am I at this while,

Heavy brumes shroud the willows,

Fifes are playing out the miserable tunes of the Fallen Plum Blossom Blow,

How long has spring left to go?

This Lanterns Festival the weather’s fine and genial,

Anon, who can portend there won’t suddenly come a white squall,

Many a boon partner and fellow skald,

On coursers and fragrant curricles,

Come inviting me to join them play the gallivant to my refusal,

In the heyday of the Capital, boudoirs ladies used to insouciantly idle,

They liked particularly to celebrate the Lanterns Festival,

On this day they adorned their hats with kingfisher feathers of emerald,

Exquisitely adorning their hair with gold filigree snow like bundles of silk willows,

Now haggard with a stricken face, going out at night is what I hate most,

I’d rather cache under the portiere and harken to people’s ridicules and scoffs.

一剪梅 李清照

一剪梅      李清照 (1084-1151)

紅藕香殘玉簟秋，輕解羅裳，獨上蘭舟。
雲中誰寄錦書來，雁字回時，月滿西樓。
花自飄零水自流，一種相思，兩處閑愁。
此情無計可消除，纔下眉頭，卻上心頭。
Yi Jian Mei             Li Qingzhao (1084-1151)

On my bamboo mat I shiver amidst the autumnal chills,

The crimson lotus blossom with its fragrance shriveled and dwindled,
Shedding my gauze clothes I mount solitarily an orchid boat,
Whosoever would send me a billet doux from the clouds,
When the west tower is teeming with effulgent moon glow,
Soaring back will be many a wild goose file,
Flowers just unstoppably fall and waters incessantly flow,
When one starts to pine for one’s affaire d’amour,
Two will be dumped in glum and dismals,
There is no way to have this passionate longing quelled,
Once it is driven from your eye brow,
It zaps up into your soul.

 

 

武陵春 李清照

武陵春    李清照 (1084-1151)

風住塵香花已盡，日晚倦梳頭。
物是人非事事休，欲語淚先流。
聞說雙溪春尚好，也擬泛輕舟。
只恐雙溪舴艋舟，載不動、許多愁。

Wu Ling Chun         Li Qingzhao (1084-1151)

The wind lulls while flowers have all wilted with their fragrance still cached in the soil,

The sun is already hanging high but I am still fainéant to have my hair combed and unsnarled,
Everything remain as they are but changed are the people and I am dumped in bleak dismals,
Before I say anything my tears first fall,
People say the vernal glamour still remains fascinating over Double Rill,
I’d like to ride a little boat,
But there the tiny grasshopper dragon boats,
Cannot hold all my miseries and dismals.

 

 

如夢令 李清照

如夢令     李清照 (1084-1151)

昨夜雨疏風驟，濃睡不消殘酒。
試問卷簾人，卻道海棠依舊。
知否？知否？應是綠肥紅瘦。

Ru Meng Ling       Li Qingzhao (1084-1151)

Last night the wind and rain squalled,

Awakened from my deep sleep I still feel fuddled,
I ask my maid who rolled up the portiere, how are my beloved blows,
She says the crab blossoms remain as usual,
Only the green leaves have bloated,
And the red blossoms have grown more gracile,
Don’t you know! Don’t you know!

醉花陰 李清照

醉花陰     李清照(1084-1151)

薄霧濃雲愁永晝，瑞腦銷金獸。

佳節又重陽，玉枕紗櫥，半夜涼初透。
東籬把酒黃昏後，有暗香盈袖。
莫道不銷魂，簾捲西風，人比黃花瘦!

Zui Hua Yin          Li Qingzhao (1084-1151)

Shrouded in incense smoke, glum seizes my day,
The camphol incense burns out, leaving only the censer with animate gold-inlaid,
Double-Yang Festival is again on its way,
Through my pillow and the gauze curtain midnight chills invade,
Drinking by the east fence of my chrysanthemum garden in the evening haze,
From my sleeves whiffs of fragrance emanate,
Bruising! Wouldn’t you say?
The west wind curling up the portiere,
A human figure frailer than the yellow flower is betrayed.

聲聲慢 李清照

聲聲慢      李清照 (1084-1151)

尋尋覓覓，冷冷清清，淒淒慘慘戚戚。

乍暖還寒時候，最難將息。
三杯兩盞淡酒，怎敵他、晚來風急。
雁過也，正傷心，卻是舊時相識。
滿地黃花堆積。憔悴損，如今有誰堪摘。
守著窗兒，獨自怎生得黑。
梧桐更兼細雨，到黃昏、點點滴滴。
這次第，怎一個、愁字了得。

Sheng sheng Man               Li Qingzhao (1084-1151)

I seek and seek and look everywhere,
Feeling dreary, wrecked and all in a fluster,
In a time of intermittent warmth and shivers,
It’s most difficult to repose and set oneself to respire,
With only a few cups of thin wine,
How can I brave the fierce winds when the night grows deeper?
At this time when my heart is seared,
The wild geese pass by,
They look so familiar,
Piling up on the ground are heaps of fallen yellow flowers,
Shrivelled and withered,
Who would now bother to have them gathered?
I guard by the window,
Finding it hard to watch alone the day grow darker,
The drizzles on the wutong tree make everything seem bleaker and bleaker,
It dribbles through the vesper,
How can the word “disconsolation” have all these covered.