李清照·《声声慢》英译

Sheng sheng man 

Li Qingzhao

Search…seek

Dreary… desolate

Dismal…downcast…disconsolate

A warm spell then it’s back to winter

Hard to find rest.

A few swallows of weak wine

Can hardly fend off the urgent wind towards evening.

The wild geese have gone

Breaks one’s heart!

They are acquaintances from the old days.

The yellow petals are piled all over the ground,

Forlorn and damaged: now, what’s worth the plucking?

At the window,

Alone, how do I brace myself against the encroaching dark?

The wutong tree soaks in the drizzling rain,

Drip-drops, drip-drops into the dusk . . .

These things, this moment,

How can one word “grief” say it all?

（欧阳桢 译）