Green Green, the Cypress on the Ridge
Green green the cypress* on the ridge,
stones heaped about in mountain streams:
between heaven and earth our lives rush past
like travelers with a long road to go.
Let this measure of wine be our merriment;
value it highly, without disdain.
I race the carriage, whip the lagging horses,
roam for pleasure to Wan and Lo**.
Here in Lo-yang, what surging crowds,
capped and belted ones chasing each other;
long avenues fringed with narrow alleys,
the many mansions of princes and peers.
The Two Palaces face each other from afar,
paired towers over a hundred feet tall.
Let the feast last forever, delight the heart --
then what grief or gloom can weigh us down?