Wei riverside market in Xianyang
Dreaming of Yuan Zhen
Bai Juyi 772-846
At night you came and took my hand
and we wandered together in my dream;
When I woke up in the morning
there was no one to stop the tears
that fell on my handkerchief.
At the Zhang Inlet your aged body
three times passed through sickness;
At Xianyang to the grasses on your grave
eight autumns have come.
You--buried beneath the Springs
your bones mingled with clay;
I--lodging in the world of men
my hair white as snow.
A-wei and Han-lang both followed in their turn;
Among the shadows of the Terrace of Night
did you know them or not?
Bái Jūyì 772-846
Yè lái xiéshǒu mèng tóng yóu，
Chén qǐ yíng jīn lèi mò shōu.
Zhāngpǔ lǎo shēn sān dù bìng，
Xiányáng cǎo shù bā huí qiū.
Jūn mái quánxià ní xiāo gǔ，
Wǒ jì rénjiān xuě mǎn tóu.
Āwèi Hánláng xiāng cì qù，
Yètái mángmèi dézhī fǒu.