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[Tang Scholar]

I decided to post for translation poem no. 18 from the brief collection of Li Qingzhao.

醉花陰　

薄霧濃雲愁永晝，
瑞腦消金獸。
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。
莫道不消魂，
簾卷西風，
人比黃花瘦。

I invite you to celebrate the 40th week of the Workshop expressing your feelings and thoughts on the experience we have shared through this exercise.

[Tang Scholar]

Here is my translation:


Drunken under Flower Shadows

Light mists and heavy clouds;
A dreary, dragging day.
On the burner, incense is fading out.
Time has returned to the Double Ninth.
A chill at midnight passes through the silk;
the jade pillows are cold.
After wine drinking in the sunset,
along the Eastern fence,
my sleeves became full of a secret fragance.
Do not say there’s no harm.
The western breeze raises the courtain;
I look more slender than a golden flower.


Embriaguez bajo la sombra de las flores

Nieblas ligeras y grávidas nubes.
Día largo y melancólico.
El incienso se acaba en el brasero.
El festival del Doble Yang ha vuelto.
A media noche cruza el frío la seda,
las almohadas de jade se han enfriado.
Tras de beber vino al ocaso,
junto a la cerca del oriente,
mis mangas están llenas de un aroma secreto.
No digas que no duele.
La brisa de occidente levanta la cortina;
me veo más delgada que una flor de oro.

[sylvester]

薄霧濃雲愁永晝，
thin fog and heavy cloud accompanies me all the day time with sadness,
瑞腦消金獸。
while incense burnt in the golden burner.
佳節又重陽，
it is the Double Ninth Festival again,
玉枕紗櫥，
the porcelain pillow in lace curtain
半夜涼初透。
send out light cold at mid night.


東籬把酒黃昏後，
having wine at eastern fence after sunset,
有暗香盈袖。
faint sweet smell filled up my sleeves.
莫道不消魂，
dont say it is not confusing,
簾卷西風，
if western wind blew up the window curtains,
人比黃花瘦。
you may see that i was more skinny than those chrysanthemum.

[Yizheng]

Here is my translation.

醉花陰　

薄霧濃雲愁永晝，
瑞腦消金獸。
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。
莫道不消魂，
簾卷西風，
人比黃花瘦。

Drunk in the flowers’ shade

Fine mist and thick cloud
Forlorn picture they paint
And in my incense burner
Only the ashes now fade.
Again the double nine festive day.
Soaked through with the midnight cool
My gauze screen and pillow of jade.

In the dusk I drank wine by the hedge
My sleeves left thick with flowered scent
No way to quench the feelings within
My curtain stirs in the west wind’s hold.
More slender am I than these flowers of gold.

[Tang Scholar]

Fine to know that you are still there!
Good work.
Now, who's going to propose the next poem?

How about Yizheng?
If possible, bring a new poet to our list. The choice is yours, however, of course...