春日春盘细生菜,忽忆两京梅发时。
盘出高门行白玉,菜传纤手送青丝。
巫峡寒江那对眼,杜陵远客不胜悲。
此身未知归定处,呼儿觅纸一题诗。
For spring’s first day, “spring plates” with slender shoots,
at once I recall the two capitals, the time when plums come out.
Plates went forth from noble gates bringing that white jade,
the foods were carried by dainty hands bringing threads of green.
The Wu Gorges, the cold river – how can I bear to face them?
The far wayfarer from Duling feels unbearable sorrow.
Since this body does not know where to go to rest,
I call to the lad to find paper and I write a poem.
“Spring plates” refers to the custom by which the ruler presented his ministers with an array of early vegetable sprouts. These were also exchanged among family and friends.
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