Rain at the Cold-food Festival
- Poetry of Su Shi

Ⅰ

Since I came to Huangzhou,I've passed

Three Cold-food days devot'd to fast.

Each year I wish fair spring to stay,

But spring will go without delay.

This year again we suffer from rains,

For two months dreary autumn reigns.

Lying in bed,I smell crab-Apple flowers,

Upon whose rouge and snow mud showers.

The rouge has taken stealthy flight,

Borne away by the Strong at midnight.

The snow is like a sick youth's head

Turning white when he's up from his bed.

Ⅱ

Spring flood is coming up to my gate,

My small cot looks like a fishing boat.

The pouring rain will not abate,

My cot on misty waves wiil float.

I cook food in a kitchen in decay

And burn wet reeds in a cracked stove.

Who can tell'tis the Cold-food day

But for the money-paper burned above?

The royal palace has gate on gate;

My household graves far away lie.

At the road's end I'd lament my fate,

But dead ashes blown up cannot fly.

其一

自我来黄州，已过三寒食。

年年欲惜春，春去不容惜。

今年又苦雨，两月秋萧瑟。

卧闻海棠花，泥污燕脂雪。

暗中偷负去，夜半真有力。

何殊病少年，病起头已白。

其二

春江欲入户，雨势来不已。

小屋如渔舟，濛濛水云里。

空庖煮寒菜，破灶烧湿苇。

那知是寒食，但见乌衔纸。

君门深九重，坟墓在万里。

也拟哭途穷，死灰吹不起。