RETURNING TO LINGAO BY NIGHT
Drinking at Eastern Slope by night,
I sober, then get drunk again.
When I come back, it’s near midnight,
I hear the thunder of my houseboy’s snore;
I knock but none answers the door.
What can I do but, leaning on my cane,
Listen to the river’s refrain?
I long regret I am not master of my own.
When can I ignore the hums of up and down?
In the still night the soft winds quiver
On ripples of the river.
From now on I would vanish with my little boat;
For the rest of my life on the sea I would float.
夜归临皋
夜饮东坡醉复醒，
归来仿佛三更。
家童鼻息已雷鸣，
敲门都不应，
倚杖听江声。
长恨此身非我有，
何时忘却营营？
夜阑风静縠纹平。
小舟从此逝，
江海寄余生。