李白
长干行

妾发初覆额， 折花门前剧；
郎骑竹马来， 绕床弄青梅。
同居长干里， 两小无嫌猜。
十四为君妇， 羞颜未尝开；
低头向暗壁， 千唤不一回，
十五始展眉， 愿同尘与灰；
常存抱柱信， 岂上望夫台？
十六君远行， 瞿塘滟滪堆；
五月不可触， 猿鸣天上哀。
门前迟行迹， 一一生绿苔；
苔深不能扫， 落叶秋风早。
八月蝴蝶来， 双飞西园草。
感此伤妾心， 坐愁红颜老。
早晚下三巴， 预将书报家；
相迎不道远， 直至长风沙。

Folk-song-styled-verse
Li Bai
A SONG OF CHANGGAN

My hair had hardly covered my forehead.
I was picking flowers, paying by my door,
When you, my lover, on a bamboo horse,
Came trotting in circles and throwing green plums.
We lived near together on a lane in Ch\'ang-kan,
Both of us young and happy-hearted.
...At fourteen I became your wife,
So bashful that I dared not smile,
And I lowered my head toward a dark corner
And would not turn to your thousand calls;
But at fifteen I straightened my brows and laughed,
Learning that no dust could ever seal our love,
That even unto death I would await you by my post
And would never lose heart in the tower of silent watching.
...Then when I was sixteen, you left on a long journey
Through the Gorges of Ch\'u-t\'ang, of rock and whirling water.
And then came the Fifth-month, more than I could bear,
And I tried to hear the monkeys in your lofty far-off sky.
Your footprints by our door, where I had watched you go,
Were hidden, every one of them, under green moss,
Hidden under moss too deep to sweep away.
And the first autumn wind added fallen leaves.
And now, in the Eighth-month, yellowing butterflies
Hover, two by two, in our west-garden grasses
And, because of all this, my heart is breaking
And I fear for my bright cheeks, lest they fade.
...Oh, at last, when you return through the three Pa districts,
Send me a message home ahead!
And I will come and meet you and will never mind the distance,
All the way to Chang-feng Sha. 
 
孟郊
烈女操
梧桐相待老， 鸳鸯会双死；
贞妇贵殉夫， 舍生亦如此。
波澜誓不起， 妾心井中水。

Folk-song-styled-verse
Meng Jiao
A SONG OF A PURE-HEARTED GIRL

Lakka-trees ripen two by two
And mandarin-ducks die side by side.
If a true-hearted girl will love only her husband,
In a life as faithfully lived as theirs,
What troubling wave can arrive to vex
A spirit like water in a timeless well?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
孟郊
游子吟

慈母手中线， 游子身上衣；
临行密密缝， 意恐迟迟归。
谁言寸草心， 报得三春辉？

Folk-song-styled-verse
Meng Jiao
A TRAVELLER\'S SONG

The thread in the hands of a fond-hearted mother
Makes clothes for the body of her wayward boy;
Carefully she sews and thoroughly she mends,
Dreading the delays that will keep him late from home.
But how much love has the inch-long grass
For three spring months of the light of the sun?

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