跪求中国古代诗的英文版~~~

调歌头（明月几时有）

苏轼

明月几时有？把酒问青天。不知天上宫阙，今夕是何年。我欲乘风归去，又恐琼楼玉宇，高处不胜寒, 起舞弄清影，何似在人间。

转朱阁，抵绮户，照无眠。不应有恨，何事常向别时圆。人有悲欢离合，月有阴晴圆缺，此事古难全。 但愿人长久，千里***婵娟。

"Thinking of You"

When will the moon be clear and bright?

With a cup of wine in my hand, I ask the blue sky.

I don't know what season it would be in the heavens on this night.

I'd like to ride the wind to fly home.

Yet I fear the crystal and jade mansions are much too high and cold for me.

Dancing with my moon-lit shadow

It does not seem like the human world

The moon rounds the red mansion Stoops to silk-pad doors

Shines upon the sleepless Bearing no grudge

Why does the moon tend to be full when people are apart?

People may have sorrow or joy, be near or far apart

The moon may be dim or bright, wax or wane

This has been going on since the beginning of time

May we all be blessed with longevity Though far apart, we are still able to share the beauty of the moon together.

- Poem written during the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival of

1076 by Su Tung Po

张九龄

望月怀远

海上生明月， 天涯***此时。

情人怨遥夜， 竟夕起相思。

灭烛怜光满， 披衣觉露滋。

不堪盈手赠， 还寝梦佳期。

Zhang Jiuling

LOOKING AT THE MOON

AND THINKING OF ONE FAR AWAY

The moon, grown full now over the sea,

Brightening the whole of heaven,

Brings to separated hearts

The long thoughtfulness of night....

It is no darker though I blow out my candle.

It is no warmer though I put on my coat.

So I leave my message with the moon

And turn to my bed, hoping for dreams.

王湾

次北固山下

客路青山外， 行舟绿水前。

潮平两岸阔， 风正一帆悬。

海日生残夜， 江春入旧年。

乡书何处达？ 归雁洛阳边。

Wang Wan

A MOORING UNDER NORTH FORT HILLUnder blue mountains we wound our way,

My boat and 1, along green water;

Until the banks at low tide widened,

With no wind stirring my lone sail.

...Night now yields to a sea of sun,

And the old year melts in freshets.

At last I can send my messengers --

Wildgeese, homing to Loyang. 杜甫

春望

国破山河在， 城春草木深。

感时花溅泪， 恨别鸟惊心。

烽火连三月， 家书抵万金。

白头搔更短， 浑欲不胜簪。

Du Fu

A SPRING VIEW

Though a country be sundered, hills and rivers endure;

And spring comes green again to trees and grasses

Where petals have been shed like tears

And lonely birds have sung their grief.

...After the war-fires of three months,

One message from home is worth a ton of gold.

...I stroke my white hair. It has grown too thin

To hold the hairpins any more.