《小重山》 岳飞
昨夜寒蛩不住鸣。惊回千里梦,已三更。起来独自绕阶行。人悄悄,帘外月胧明。
白首为功名。旧山松竹老,阻归程。欲将心事付瑶琴。知音少,弦断有谁听?
Manifold Little Hills Yue Fei
The autumn crickets chirped incessantly last night, Breaking my dream homebound; 'T was already midnight. I got up and alone in the yard walked around; On window screen the moon shone bright; There was no human sound. My hair turns grey For the glorious day. In native hills bamboos and pines grow old. O when can I see my household? I would confide to my lute what I have in view, But connoisseurs are few. Who would be listening, Though I break my lute string?
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