To the Tune of Yang Zhou Man
At the famous city east of Huaihe River
And west of a stretch of bamboo
(Where the first stage of my journey ends),
I dismount to rest.
As I walk along the road
Once bathed in a reach of vernal breezes
I see green field cress on all sides.
Since Tartar cavalry pressed upon the Yangtze
The city with abandoned moat and towering trees
Still hates all mention of the war.
As evening sets in, in the empty city
Chilly horns are echoing.
If Du Mu the connoisseur of bygone beauty
Returned to life, he’d lament the lost glory.
His magic pen that described a cardamom-like girl
And dream-like time in blue mansions
Can no more tell a romantic story.
The twenty-four bridges,
Upon which fairies once played their flutes,
Are still there;
And below, in ripples the silent moon glows.
But, oh, for whom the red peonies by the bridges
Bloom every spring?
Who knows?
Who knows?
扬州慢·淮左名都
淳熙丙申至日，予过维扬。夜雪初霁，荠麦弥望。入其城，则四顾萧条，寒水自碧，暮色渐起，戍角悲吟。予怀怆然，感慨今昔，因自度此曲。千岩老人以为有“黍离”之悲也。淮左名都，竹西佳处，解鞍少驻初程。过春风十里。尽荠麦青青。自胡马窥江去后，废池乔木，犹厌言兵。渐黄昏，清角吹寒。都在空城。
杜郎俊赏，算而今、重到须惊。纵豆蔻词工，青楼梦好，难赋深情。二十四桥仍在，波心荡、冷月无声。念桥边红药，年年知为谁生。