Nights are long and I cannot sleep
the clear moon so bright and shining.
I think I hear a voice fitfully calling,
and futilely I answer yes to the empty sky.

translated by Burton Watson

In the hottest time, when all is still and windless
and summer clouds rise up at dusk,
under the dense leaves, take my hand
and we’ll float melons on the water, dunk crimson plums.

translated by Burton Watson

Cool breezes–I sleep by the open window
where the light of the setting moon shines in.
At  midnight there are no voices,
but within my gauze curtains, a pair of smiles.

translated by Burton Watson