Today marks the Qingming Festival (清明节), one of the most important traditional festivals in China. 

Qingming (清明) in Chinese mean 'clearness' and 'brightness' – marking the start of warm weather in spring. This festival is also called Tomb Sweeping Day, as it is the time for Chinese people to pay respect to their ancestors by cleaning tombs and placing offerings. 

The festival is also linked to traditional outdoor activities like flying kites and going for walks. Traditional Chinese Confucian values around family – including respect for elders, love and caring – are at the heart of the festival.

To mark the day, CGTN Europe choose two poems: Hand by contemporary Chinese poet Kai Lan, and When You Are Old by Irish poet WB Yeats.

Hand is read by Kai Lan, the poet herself, and When You Are Old by Fiachra Mac Góráin, a professor at University College London.

Hand could be interpreted as exploring romantic love, maternal affection, spiritual faith, or self-belief.

Meanwhile, When You Are Old is widely thought to have been written by Yeats for his lover, the Irish revolutionary Maud Gonne. The poem explores themes such as the reality of passing time, the brevity of life, and the importance of love. The Chinese translation has several different versions; below is the work from famous Chinese writer Bing Xin (冰心).

Hand

By Kai Lan

At night, I am woken up by something

I find your hand

on my right arm

so light

like a silk scarf

brushing lightly against my neck

Yet it's so powerful

like my mother's hand

A bulwark

in the bustling crowd

holding on tight to my five-year-old self

The rain outside the window

spatters against the pane like waves

crashing down

I feel like a sailboat

hapless

in the choppy ocean

I turn over and hold you

an anchor

sinking gradually

strong

nestled in the

seabed

手

夜间，我好像被什么东西推醒

发现你的手

搭在我的右臂上

如此的轻

像一条围着脖子的丝巾

又是如此的有力

像母亲的手

在熙攘的人流中

拽紧五岁的我

窗外的雨如海浪般哗哗作响

我感觉自己像一条船

在起伏的波涛中飘荡

我翻身，搂住你

一只铁锚

渐渐往下沉坠

扎

入

海底

When you are old

By William Butler Yeats

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,

And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false or true,

But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled

And paced upon the mountains overhead

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

当你老了　　　　　　　

冰心译

当你老了，头发花白，睡意沉沉，

倦坐在炉边，取下这本书来，

慢慢读着，追梦当年的眼神

那柔美的神采与深幽的晕影。

多少人爱过你青春的片影，

爱过你的美貌，以虚伪或是真情，

惟独一人爱你那朝圣者的心，

爱你哀戚的脸上岁月的留痕。

在炉栅边，你弯下了腰，

低语着，带着浅浅的伤感，

爱情是怎样逝去，又怎样步上群山，

怎样在繁星之间藏住了脸。