Xi huanghua man:
A Stray Wild Goose
Emerald spreads to the end of the distant sky,
Only rosy dusk clouds scattering their fine silk
Snipped into fragments of fresh red.
When I listen, I worry that it's so nearby,
When I gaze, I dread its being far away:
One lone wild goose
To whom can it turn?
White frost has already chilled the sandbar's reed flowers,
So don't even ask the gulls and egrets for sympathy.
In the dark, sleep alone.
Though the phoenix may be fine,
When is there ever a bond with it?
Mournful, I have no words to encourage you;
Go along a sandy shore or halfway up a stream
Just to pass the fleeting years.
With the rice grains recently exhausted,
The fowler's nets cannot wait;
Your dream-soul is easily frightened
Many times in the cold mist.
Is your grief like a woman's?
In that tiny heart there is so much tender attachment.
The night is not yet quiet,
Yet, tired from flight, you make the mistake of resting in the flat field.
（Grace S. Fong 譯）