Frolicking above the Graves
The day is beautiful and clear;
We'll go fluting and play the strings.
The dead are lying under the cypress:
Shouldn't we make merry while we may?
Lively our voices, the air filled with music new;
The green wine refreshes both of our cheeks.
What the morrow holds for me I cannot tell,
But this day have I laid bare my naked soul.
An Excursion to the Zhou Family Graves, in the Shade of Cypress Trees
Fair was the day,
Gay, the sound of winds and strings.
With those buried beneath in mind,
Ought we not to have caroused without delay?
New songs rang out in the air,
Emerald wine lit up our faces.
Come what may tomorrow,
To the full I've enjoyed myself today.
Under the Cypress Trees in the Zhous' Graveyard
It's find today and we relax at ease,
In pleasant music of the flutes and strings.
At thought of dead men under cypress trees,
How can we go without the pleasant things?
When new songs ring around in cheerful glee,
We drink the fresh wine to our hearts' content.
As tomorrow still remains unknown to me,
I'll make today the finest day I've spent.