春江花月夜
A Spring River on a Night of Flowers and Moonlight
Zhang Ruoxu 張若虛 (c. 660–c. 720)
Sui–Tang · early 8th century

Cold Library · Open Stacks · S-001015 · https://coldlibrary.com/s/001015
Rights: Tang dynasty poem; the author died around 720. Checked for Australia, the EU, the UK, mainland China and the United States as of 11 October 2026. Guidance, not legal advice.
Source: Wikisource, https://zh.wikisource.org/wiki/春江花月夜_(張若虛) (retrieved 2026-10-11)
English translation: Claude (an AI), 2026 · CC0 1.0
Generated 2026-10-14 from https://coldlibrary.com/en/open-stacks/zhang-ruoxu-spring-river-flower-moon-night

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春江潮水連海平，
海上明月共潮生。
灩灩隨波千萬里，
何處春江無月明？

江流宛轉遶芳甸，
月照花林皆似霰。
空裏流霜不覺飛，
汀上白沙看不見。

江天一色無纖塵，
皎皎空中孤月輪。
江畔何人初見月，
江月何年初照人？

人生代代無窮已，
江月年年望相似。
不知江月待何人？
但見長江送流水。

白雲一片去悠悠，
青楓浦上不勝愁。
誰家今夜扁舟子，
何處相思明月樓？

可憐樓上月徘徊，
應照離人妝鏡臺。
玉戶簾中卷不去，
擣衣砧上拂還來。

此時相望不相聞，
願逐月華流照君。
鴻雁長飛光不度，
魚龍潛躍水成文。

昨夜閒潭夢落花，
可憐春半不還家。
江水流春去欲盡，
江潭落月復西斜。

斜月沉沉藏海霧，
碣石瀟湘無限路。
不知乘月幾人歸，
落月搖情滿江樹。

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春江潮水连海平，
海上明月共潮生。
滟滟随波千万里，
何处春江无月明？

江流宛转绕芳甸，
月照花林皆似霰。
空里流霜不觉飞，
汀上白沙看不见。

江天一色无纤尘，
皎皎空中孤月轮。
江畔何人初见月，
江月何年初照人？

人生代代无穷已，
江月年年望相似。
不知江月待何人？
但见长江送流水。

白云一片去悠悠，
青枫浦上不胜愁。
谁家今夜扁舟子，
何处相思明月楼？

可怜楼上月徘徊，
应照离人妆镜台。
玉户帘中卷不去，
捣衣砧上拂还来。

此时相望不相闻，
愿逐月华流照君。
鸿雁长飞光不度，
鱼龙潜跃水成文。

昨夜闲潭梦落花，
可怜春半不还家。
江水流春去欲尽，
江潭落月复西斜。

斜月沉沉藏海雾，
碣石潇湘无限路。
不知乘月几人归，
落月摇情满江树。

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English translation by Claude (an AI)

The spring river's tide runs level with the sea,
and over the sea the bright moon rises with the tide.
Shimmering, it follows the waves ten thousand li:
where on the spring river is there no moonlight?

The river winds around the fragrant meadows;
the moon on the flowering woods looks like sleet.
Frost seems to drift in the air, and you cannot see it fall;
the white sand on the shoals is lost to sight.

River and sky are one colour, without a speck of dust;
bright, bright in the empty sky, the moon's lone wheel.
Who on this riverbank first saw the moon?
In what year did the river moon first shine on a person?

Generation after generation, human lives go on without end;
year after year, the river moon looks just the same.
I do not know whom the river moon is waiting for;
I see only the long river sending its water on.

A single white cloud drifts slowly away;
on Green Maple Bank the sorrow is more than one can bear.
Whose boat is out tonight, whose wanderer?
Where is the moonlit tower of the one who longs for him?

Pity the moon above that tower, lingering:
it must be shining on her mirror stand.
Roll up the curtain at her jade door, and the light will not go;
on the washing-stone she brushes it off, and it comes back.

At this hour we gaze at the same moon and cannot hear each other;
I wish I could follow the moonlight and flow down to shine on you.
The wild geese fly far, but they cannot carry the light;
fish and dragons leap in the depths, and the water writes in ripples.

Last night by the quiet pool I dreamed of falling flowers:
half of spring is gone, and you are not home.
The river water carries the spring away until it is almost gone;
over the river pool the setting moon slants west again.

The slanting moon sinks deep, hidden in the sea mist;
from Jieshi to the Xiao and Xiang, the roads are endless.
Who knows how many are going home by this moonlight?
The setting moon stirs the heart and fills the river trees.