其十二

客中憶家

北地天高露若霜
客心虫語兩淒涼
寒砧和月秋千里
玉笛散風淚萬行
他國亂山愁外碧
故園落葉夢中黃
何当後宛閑吟句
幾處尋花徙繡床

No. 12

While traveling, I think of home.

The sky high in the northern land, the dew looks like frost,
The traveler’s thoughts and insect chirr both alike are somber.
The fulling block’s cold echoes the moon, autumn stretches a thousand leagues,
A jade flute is muted in the wind, streams of tears pour forth.
A jagged line of alien peaks is emerald green indifferent,
Fallen leaves in the yard back home are yellow in my dreams.
When I will sing verses again at leisure in my garden?
How many places will I go visiting the flowers in my embroidered chair?