Classical Airs

The traveler of Ying intoned “White Snow,” And the lingering echoes fl ew up to the blue heavens. Singing that tone again in vain, Who in the whole world will pass it on? 5 Try to sing that ditty “Man of Ba,” And thousands will sing along with you. Choking on my own voice, what more is to be said? I heave a sigh of melancholy, all in vain.

李白 古风

白居易，忆江南

The Southland is best: I came to know its scenes long ago. When the sun comes out the river fl owers are redder than the fi re, and as spring arrives the river’s waters are as green as indigo. How can I help remembering the Southland?

Memories of the Southland, and of Hangzhou most of all. At a mountain temple in moonlight I went seeking cassia, from my pillow in the pavilion I watch the high waters come. When will I go there again?

Memories of the Southland, and next I remember the palace of Wu One cup of Wu’s wine in springtime bamboo leaves, paired dancing of Wu’s maidens, drunken lotuses. Sooner or later I’ll meet them again.