喜雨 唐 杜甫
Rejoicing at Rain
Heaven and earth are dark with drouth in Spring,
The sun shines lurid, red as blood;
The farmers ceased to cultivate their land,
Harassed by soldiery, who could?
Desperate to provide the armies, men
Of Szechwan shed hot tears on mother soil.
And then one night it rained on Valley Ts’ang,
As Heaven atoned the crime it would assoil.
The shoots of grain show little life as yet,
By unexpunged miasma still distressed.
How may we see a year of peace that shall
Resolve the sorrows knotted in the breast?
The towering clouds upon the ranged hills,
Sit in unbroken session as before.
How shall we whip the thunder up to wash The Southeast in a great downpour?