passes through the rapids, we sail through a clear ripple.
There are beautiful images of green hills in the clear ripple,
Artemisia ordosica has been propped up and settled in the heart of the wave,
In the heart of the wave, we can see the leisurely fish-
Nora, shian! (same as before)
Nine
Quiet! Let's stop the oars and make love.
Listen to the bright joy in the green forest.
Is it thrush or knowing more? Like drops of perfume,
dripping into my thirsty soul-
shian Nora! (Same as before)
Ten
"Wuta 1": Don't laugh at the madness of tourists,
Boat people, you enjoy the tranquility of the mountains and rivers,
Have a glass of "Shaji 1", friends, * * * get drunk,
"Wuta, Wuta"! Mountain spirit's voice is not too rude-
shian Nora! (Same as before)
Eleven
I don't recognize-I don't need to recognize-this strange lyric,
like an unyielding wave hissing among caves,
like an aging warrior telling his life story in his prime,
"Uta Uta"! I am full of fantastic thoughts-
shian Nora! (Same as before)
Twelve
That's the cuckoo! She embroidered a brocade ribbon, which
lingers around the green foothills of the green hills;
Ah, there is also her fragrance in the blue waves.
There is her peach-like timidity in the blue waves-
shian Nora! (same as before)
thirteen
But it provides me with deep intoxication,
not only the fragrance of azaleas;
twice better than the delicate cuckoo,
the most unforgettable and more delicate girl!
shian Nora!
Fourteen
I admire their lightness,
Charm is natural, charm is natural!
I admire their uniform colors,
bright as butterflies and light as butterflies-
shian Nora!
Fifteenth Five-Year Plan
Live up to the ingenuity of the creator,
They have infinite attentions in their lives;
For example, the freedom like the smell of smoke and flowers,
I can't eat enough of their smiles and softness-
shian Nora!
Sixteen
I am a night butterfly in the valley;
Taking shape in the grass and flying in the dark,
I present beautiful gold powder on my wings and feathers,
I love the shining star thousands of miles away-
shian Nora!
Seventeen
I am a drunken flower bee;
I'm full of fragrance, and I'm not afraid of my madness.
Now, on my way home, I have a small voice.
I want to praise that different kind of flower wine. I once tasted it-
shian Nora!
Eighteen
is the gentleness of bowing your head,
like a water lotus, which is too shy to be cool.
There is a sweet sorrow in the treasure.
shian Nora!
This group of poems written by Xu Zhimo during his visit to Japan with Tagore in June, 1924 was collected in the first edition of Poems of Zhimo. The first seventeen poems were deleted by the author when they were reprinted, and only the last one was left, and a subtitle was added: For Japanese girls.
Broken Temple
I was
driven into the dark mountain by the rushing rain,
approaching my head and grabbing,
bold oolong paws,
jujube trees hiding
a quiet broken temple,
I was covered in raindrops,
hiding in a daze.
Thunderstorm is getting worse and worse:
Huo rumbled for half a day and thundered,
Hu Lalin leaves, roots and seedlings,
Mountain rocks in the valley, all of which roared,
Thousands of golden shears and golden snakes flew into the gloomy ruined temple,
I was shaking all over, so I took advantage of the lightning
to measure this cold ruined temple;
I couldn't help crying loudly.
The lightning shone like a torch,
It showed a grinning Shinto in the shrine beside me.
The lightning went away, and the thunderbolt came again.
The grinning Shinto disappeared.
The hard rain poured down like a stone-
I was alone hiding in the ruined temple.
a thousand years should have passed!
I just feel totally clueless,
I only hear terrible strange cries,
I only remember the ferocious Shinto,
I forgot my ruined temple now:
It's easy for the rain to stop,
The blood-red sun shines all over the sky,
It reflects a me, a ruined temple!
nature and life