我宿五松下,寂寥无所欢
田家秋作苦,邻女夜舂寒。
跪进雕胡饭,月光明素盘。
令人惭漂母,三谢不能餐。
I lodge under the five pine trees,
Lonely,I feel not quite at ease.
Peasants work hard in autumn old:
Husking rice at night,the maid's cold.
Wild rice is offered on her knees;
The plate in moonlight seems to freeze.
I'm overwhelmed with gratitude.
Do I deserve the hard-earned food?
By Li Bai
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