屋上春鸠鸣,村边杏花白。
持斧伐远扬,荷锄觇泉脉。
归燕识故巢,旧人看新历。
临觞忽不御,惆怅远行客。
The turtledoves in the house are cooing;
The apricot deck the village with white,
The mulberries are pruned with axes bewing,
With hoes they sound for a fountain site.
The swallows back remember the men.
The new almanac is in old folks’ hands.
The cup is raised, but dropped again:
For those yet wandering in faraway lands!
By Wang Wei
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