Translator: Michelle Zhu, Independent Member of UHHC
Poem 1
西风吹动薄罗裳，
山坐高楼板木房。
意好子娘云欲远，
月明偏受夜更长。
床头有酒心长醉，
枕底无花梦不香。
一幅幽情何心寄，
全凭知己解凄凉。
West wind rustles through silken lace,
A weathered house besits the mountain’s face.
Thoughts of dear ones float afar,
While moonlit nights drag on till dawn.
Wine by my bed, yet dreams stay bleak—
There’s no flower to sweeten woeful air.
To whom can I send this silent plea?
No kindred soul here understands me.
Poem 2
設莫各從，只可所木。
成道位今，聽惜囚屋。
玉其鄉遠，音英墨拘。
砌間君别，來雄例留。
變皆眾此，策無致幾。
如西歡樓，祖用牽十。
籠式同中，鞭武連天。
If none may come, and woods alone remain,
Paths to the truth now echo in vain.
Far from homeland, my voice chained tight;
Lost in this cell, I yearn for light.
Friends have departed, their brave tales left behind,
There’s changes abound—yet hope still shines.
Like a western tower where joy had fled,
It bounds by fate, smothering me with dew.
Poem 3
壁上题诗过百篇，
看来皆是叹迍邅。
愁人曷向愁人诉，
蹇客偏思蹇客怜。
得失岂知原有命，
富贫谁谓不由天。
此间困处何须怨，
自由英雄每厄先。
A hundred verses weep upon the wall,
Each line a sigh where broken dreams fell.
Who hears their cries; who shares their pain?
The weary seeks the same reply.
Who claims to know loss or gain?
Fate alone bears life’s bitter strain.
Blame not the chains nor freedom’s cost—
Heroes are forged in fates unfrosted.
Poem 4
读罢诗书四五担，
老来方得一青衫。
佳人问我年多少，
五十年前二十三。
Through countless scrolls I’ve wandered long,
Yet only in twilight my scholar’s robes arrayed.
A fair beauty inquires of my years:
“Fifty springs have since youth’s bright stage.”
Poem 5
本擬舊歲來美洲，
洋蚨迫阻到初秋。
織女會牛郎哥日，
乃搭林肯總統舟。
餐風嘗浪廿餘日，
幸得平安抵美洲。
以為數日可上埠，
點知苦困木樓囚。
番奴苛待眞難受，
感觸家垝淚雙流。
但願早登三藩市，
免在此間倍添愁。
I dreamed of shores across the sea,
But tempests raged, and waves forbade my journey more.
When stars aligned—the Weaver met her Cowherd’s light
—I boarded Lincoln’s ship, bound for the night.
Twenty days of wind and brine
Till, weary-eyed, I saw the land ahead.
I thought my trials would swiftly meet their end,
Yet here I linger, in a wooden prison penned.
The crew’s harsh hands, their cruelty I endure,
While thoughts of home crushed sorrow’s cure.
Oh, San Francisco, grant me your embrace,
And free me from this endless night.
Poem 6
今日为冬末，
明朝是春分。
交替两年景，
愁煞木楼人。
Winter breath fades with gentle sigh,
Spring will soon draw swiftly nigh.
Seasons shift, two years agone—
Within this house, my sorrow flows on.
Poem 7
夜凉僵卧铁床中，
窗前月妹透照侬。
闷来起立寒窗下，
愁把时计已秋中。
吾侪也应同敬赏，
菲仪无备亦羞容。
In the chill of night, on an iron bed I lie,
Moonlight spills through the pane, a silver sigh.
Restless, I rise beneath the frost-kissed air,
Grieving time’s swift flight, as autumn’s touch lays bare.
Let us cherish this moment, this quietness, serene,
For even humble gifts bestow a grace unseen.
Poem 8
四壁虫唧唧，
居人多叹息。
思及家中事，
不觉泪沾滴。
Crickets hum through walls of stone,
A symphony of sorrow where heavy hearts are bound.
The dwellers’ spirits frail and shy,
Lost in thoughts of home, where silent teardrops lie.
Unseen, they fall, as memories softly creep,
A river of longing, endless and deep.
Poem 9
闷处埃仑寻睡乡，
前途渺渺总神伤。
眼看故国危变乱，
一叶飘零倍感长。
In shadows’ grasp I seek the realm of dreams,
Where time dissolves in muted, silver streams.
The future fades, a distant, shrouded shore,
My heart bears weights it cannot yet ignore.
I watch my homeland writhe in chaos’ throes,
A single drifting leaf on chaos’ tide.
Poem 10
牢骚满腹甚难休，
裘葛已更又一秋。
满腹牢骚难罄竹，
雪落花残千古愁。
Grievances surge, a restless tide,
Peace retreats to where shadows bide.
Another autumn whispers, and old sorrows rise,
A weight that clings beneath changing skies.
Frustrations swell, like bamboo’s endless ache,
Unspent, unyielding, with each breath I take.
As snow descends and blossoms fade to gray,
A timeless sorrow lingers, and let it come what may.
Poem 11
握别依然又一秋；
天涯作客远方游。
回忆高情心未偿；
望传佳语藉书邮。
忆自动轮来美洲；
迄今月缺两轮流。
欲寄安书恨邮乏；
人悬望空悠悠。
Poem 12
乞巧少四日，
搭轮来美洲。
光阴似箭射，
又已过凉秋。
屈指经数月，
尚在此路头。
至今未曾审，
悬望心悠悠。
Four days before my starry plea,
I boarded a ship cross the sea.
Time flies like arrows, swift and keen,
And now, another fall is seen.
Months have passed, counted on my hand—
Yet here I linger, still on foreign sand.
No judgment rendered, no end in view
My heart hangs heavy, longing for what’s due.
Poem 13
夙慕花旗几优哉，
实时筹款动程来。
风波阅月已历尽，
监牢居所受灾磨。
仰望屋仑相咫尺，
愿回祖国负耕锄。
满腹牢骚难寝寐，
聊书数句表心裁。
Long had I admired lands of the free
I gathered my coins to cross the sea.
Through storms and months, I fought the tide,
Now prison walls holds me inside.
Oakland is close, yet so out of reach—
I dream of home, of fields so bleached.
My heart’s unrest denies the sleep,
So these lines I write for my soul to keep.
