孟浩然: 夏日南亭怀辛大
孟浩然: 夏日南亭怀辛大/ meng haoran: in summer at the south pavilion thinking of xing
夏日南亭怀辛大
孟浩然
山光忽西落, 池月渐东上。
散发乘夜凉, 开轩卧闲敞。
荷风送香气, 竹露滴清响。
欲取鸣琴弹, 恨无知音赏。
感此怀故人, 中宵劳梦想。
in summer at the south pavilion thinking of xing
meng haoran
the mountain-light suddenly fails in the west,
in the east from the lake the slow moon rises.
i loosen my hair to enjoy the evening coolness
and open my window and lie down in peace.
the wind brings me odours of lotuses,
and bamboo-leaves drip with a music of dew….
i would take up my lute and i would play,
but, alas, who here would understand?
and so i think of you, old friend,
o troubler of my midnight dreams !
夏日南亭怀辛大
孟浩然
山光忽西落, 池月渐东上。
散发乘夜凉, 开轩卧闲敞。
荷风送香气, 竹露滴清响。
欲取鸣琴弹, 恨无知音赏。
感此怀故人, 中宵劳梦想。
in summer at the south pavilion thinking of xing
meng haoran
the mountain-light suddenly fails in the west,
in the east from the lake the slow moon rises.
i loosen my hair to enjoy the evening coolness
and open my window and lie down in peace.
the wind brings me odours of lotuses,
and bamboo-leaves drip with a music of dew….
i would take up my lute and i would play,
but, alas, who here would understand?
and so i think of you, old friend,
o troubler of my midnight dreams !
夏日南亭怀辛大
孟浩然
山光忽西落, 池月渐东上。
散发乘夜凉, 开轩卧闲敞。
荷风送香气, 竹露滴清响。
欲取鸣琴弹, 恨无知音赏。
感此怀故人, 中宵劳梦想。
孟浩然: 夏日南亭怀辛大/ meng haoran: in summer at the south pavilion thinking of xing
in summer at the south pavilion thinking of xing
meng haoran
the mountain-light suddenly fails in the west,
in the east from the lake the slow moon rises.
i loosen my hair to enjoy the evening coolness
and open my window and lie down in peace.
the wind brings me odours of lotuses,
and bamboo-leaves drip with a music of dew….
i would take up my lute and i would play,
but, alas, who here would understand?
and so i think of you, old friend,
o troubler of my midnight dreams !
in summer at the south pavilion thinking of xing
meng haoran
the mountain-light suddenly fails in the west,
in the east from the lake the slow moon rises.
i loosen my hair to enjoy the evening coolness
and open my window and lie down in peace.
the wind brings me odours of lotuses,
and bamboo-leaves drip with a music of dew….
i would take up my lute and i would play,
but, alas, who here would understand?
and so i think of you, old friend,
o troubler of my midnight dreams !