咏雪

At winter solstice, the sun's warmth starts to revive;

Auspicious sign for a rich year swiftly arrives.

Fluttering down, at first it does not yet amass;

Scattering wide, suddenly it's boundless, alas.

A myriad trees, their verdant mist now disappears;

A thousand gates, the bright daylight is fresh and clear.

Coming and going, it clashes and merges anew;

High and low, how evenly does it settle, do you?

For a fine view, ascend the long pavilion's height;

Level enough for painted carriages to go.

Horses feel cold, their fur shrinks up like hedgehogs' might;

Bows grow stiff, their force adds weight of thirty pounds, oh.

Guests drunk, watching snow, feel dizzy in their delight;

Children tender, chew on snow and pout with all their might.

The empty hall is bright through the everlasting night;

The lofty tower shines in the morning's early light.

Trees and rocks, the poet faces them in his sight;

Rivers and plains, hunting riders deploy for the fight.

Frozen foxes lose their way to old dens in their plight;

Hungry sparrows chirp noisily round the empty granary's site.

This land is especially fit for crops to grow right;

And I, unworthy, hold a long-term post here in spite.

We ought to wait for the weather to turn warm and bright,

Then carry wine and go together to enjoy spring's delight.