Rain at the Cold-food Festival
Since I came to Huangzhou, I’ve passed
Three Cold-food days devot’d to fast.
Each year I wish fair spring to stay,
But spring will go without delay.
自我来黄州， 已过三寒食， 年年欲惜春， 春去不容惜。
This year again we suffer from rains,
For two months dreary autumn reigns.
Lying in bed, I smell crab-apple flowers,
Upon whose rouge and snow mud showers.
今年又苦雨， 两月秋萧瑟， 卧闻海棠花， 泥污燕脂雪。
The rouge has taken stealthy flight,
Borne away by the Strong at midnight.
The snow is like a sick youth’s head
Turning white when he’s up from his bed,
暗中偷负去， 夜半真有力。 何殊病少年， 病起头巳白。
Spring flood is coming up to my gate,
My small cot looks like a fishing boat.
The pouring rain will not abate,
My cot on misty waves will float.
春江欲入户， 雨势来不已， 小屋如渔舟，濛濛水云里。
I cook food in a kitchen in decay
And burn wet reeds in a cracked stove.
Who can tell ’tis the Cold-food day
But for the money-paper burned above?
空庖煮寒菜， 破灶烧湿華。 那知是寒食? 但见乌衔纸。
The royal palace has gate on gate;
My household graves far away lie.
At the road’s end I’d lament my fate,
But dead ashes blown up cannot fly.
君门深九重， 坟墓在万里。 也拟哭途穷， 死灰吹不起!