我找到的是这仨译本：
一个是许渊冲先生的
For ten long years the living of the dead knows nought .
Through to mind not brought
Could the dead be forgot？
Her lonely grave is for，a thousand miles away.
To whom can I my grief convey？
Revived，e'en if she be,
oh，could she still know me？
My face is worn with care and frosted is my hair.
Last night I dreamed of coming to our native palce；
She's making up her face
Before her mirror with grace.
Each saw the other hushed，
but from our eyes tears gushed.
When I am woken，
oh，I know I'll be heart-broken
Each night when the moon shines
O'er her grave clad with pines.
林语堂先生的
Ten years have we been parted:
The living and the dead——
Hearing no news,
Not thingking
And yet forgetting nothing!
I cannot come to your grave a thousand miles away
To converse with you and whisper my longing;
And even if we did meet
How would you greet
My weathered face,my hair a frosty white?
Last night
I dreamed I had suddenly returned to our old home
And saw you sitting there before the familiar dressing table,
We looked at each other in silence,
With misty eyes beneath the candle light.
May we year after year
In heartbreak meet,
On the pin-crest,
In the moonlight!
还有个网上找到的赵彦英的
Ten years now, I'm here, you're gone.
Though not thought, not forgot.
Your tomb far flung, nowhere could I mourn.
Could we make out if we met? Hair like frost, tears drip down.
In my dream I see our town.
By the sill, hair you frill.
Mute, we say none. Only tears flow on.
Sad, you’re there, a lonely one. By the moon, Pine Mound' shone.
