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标题: 恨賦 (南朝)江淹 [打印本页]

作者: 海外逸士    时间: 2012-9-18 22:23
标题: 恨賦 (南朝)江淹
本帖最后由 海外逸士 于 2012-9-20 22:11 编辑

試望平原,蔓草縈骨,拱木斂魂。人生到此,天道寧論?于是僕本恨人,心驚不已。
直念古者,伏恨而死。 至如秦帝按劍,諸侯西馳。削平天下,同文共規,華山為城,
紫淵為池。雄圖既溢,武力未畢。方架黿鼉以為梁,巡海右以送日。一旦魂斷,宮
車晚出。 若乃趙王既虜,遷于房陵。薄暮心動,昧旦神興。別艷姬與美女,喪金輿
及玉乘。置酒欲飲,悲來填膺。千秋萬歲,為怨難勝。 至如李君降北,名辱身冤。
拔劍擊柱,吊影慚魂。情往上郡,心留雁門。裂帛系書,誓還漢恩。朝露溘至,握
手何言? 若夫明妃去時,仰天太息。紫台稍遠,關山無極。搖風忽起,白日西匿。
隴雁少飛,代雲寡色。望君王兮何期?終蕪絕兮异域。 至乃敬通見抵,罷歸田里。
閉關卻掃,塞門不仕。左對孺人,顧弄稚子。脫略公卿,跌宕文史。 賚志沒地,長
怀無已。 及夫中散下獄,神气激揚。濁醪夕引,素琴晨張。秋日蕭縈,浮云無光。
郁青霞之奇意,入修夜之不晹。 或有孤臣危涕,孽子墜心。遷客海上,流戍隴陰,
此人但聞悲風汩起,血下沾衿。亦复含酸茹嘆,銷落湮沉。 若乃騎疊跡,車屯軌,
黃塵匝地,歌吹四起。無不煙斷火絕,閉骨泉里。 已矣哉!春草暮兮秋風驚,秋風
罷兮春草生。綺羅畢兮池館盡,琴瑟滅兮丘壟平。自古皆有死,莫不飲恨而吞聲。


Essay on Regretting
by Jiang Yan of South Dynasties

Let me watch the battlefield plain: wild weeds entwining bones and trees
before tombs gathering ghosts. At this stage of life, is it imperative to
talk of Providence? I am thus a born regretter, being stunned to no end.
I think of the ancients regretful of such death. As for Emperor of Qin holding
sword and lords marching westward. At last he conquered all the states under
heaven and united languages and measures. Mt. Hua became city wall and Purple
Abyss deep pond  (moat). Although his ambition fulfilled, his wish by force
never ended. Just after he used turtle and crocodile as beams, he traveled
to the seaside to see the sun down. But once his soul left his body, his
palace hearse was pulled out (to his tomb) in the evening.
        When King Zhao was captured, he was sent to Fangling. His heart throbbed
at dusk and his spirit rose at dawn at bidding farewell to his gorgeous
concubines and beautiful women and at losing his pompous golden coach and
jade chaise. As he was about to drink the wine served, his sorrow filled
his chest. He could never overcome his regret for thousand autumns and myriad
years.
        As general Li surrendered to the northern tribe, his name was in disgrace
and he himself was wronged. He drew out his sword to strike at a pillar,
lamenting his own solitary shadow and ashamed of his lonely soul. His feelings
went out to his nation, but his heart remained in Goose Gate. He tore off
a piece of cloth to write a letter on it and tied it on the foot of a wild
goose. He vowed to return the favor of Han Dynasty. When morning dew came
all at once, what could be said while shaking hands?
        When Concubine Ming left, she raised her head to Heaven and heaved a sigh.
The Purple Terrace was too far and Passes extended without an end. Soughing
winds suddenly arose and the sun hid in the west. Wild geese in Long were
few, flying, and clouds over Dai had little color, showing. She wanted to
look at the emperor, but how could she fulfill her wish? She would end her
life like withering weeds in the strange region.
        As to Jingtong having given offense, he was dismissed from office and went
home. He shut himself up, no longer receiving guests. He closed his door,
and decided never to be at court again. He faced his wife and played with
children. He did not stand on ceremony before dukes and courtiers. He held
special views about literature and history. He harbored an ambition, but
nowhere to realize it. His regret had no end.
        When Ji Kang was thrown into prison, he put on agitated airs. He drank
scummy wine at sunset and laid out the plain zither in the morning. The
autumn day was bleak and chilly. The floating clouds were dim and dark.
Although he had unusual will like brilliant afterglow, he got into the long
night without the sunrise.
        There might be lonely courtiers shedding tears, unfilial sons being downhearted,
demoted officials roaming on the sea or exiled to cold Long area. Such
persons, once hearing sad winds rise, would weep blood soaking the gown.
They also experienced hardship and regret, and ended their lives for nothing
like sinking into smoke. As for horse hoof prints and coach traces overlapping
each other, and yellow dust whirling on the ground, and songs and music sounding
everywhere, all finished like smoke vanishing and fire extinguished, or bones
buried by springs underground.
        Be it so! When autumn winds arise surprisingly, spring grass will wither;
but when autumn winds subside, spring grass revives. Gauze and satin will
no longer exist; ponds and houses will disappear; zithers and lutes will
become dust; mounds and graves will be leveled. There has been death since
time of yore. There's never without regret and wailing choked.
所有註解在此從略。

說明﹕江淹的“恨賦”﹑“別賦”(附後)乃兩篇文學性極強的賦文。本人一向持
不入虎穴焉得虎子之翻譯姿態﹐就是要譯別人不敢譯之高難度作品。果不其然﹐網
上找不到第二人之翻譯。難道華人中竟無對手﹐一呈其水平歟﹖古來譯手皆寂寞。
可知華夏域中﹐盡多沽名釣譽之徒﹐而無真才實學之輩。可不嘆歟。余冀此輩之中﹐
激勵之下﹐或有知恥之人﹐奮起一譯﹐以符余望。

附﹕別賦(南朝)江淹
黯然銷魂者,唯別而已矣!況秦吳兮絕國,復燕宋兮千里。或春苔兮始生,乍秋風
兮蹔起。是以行子腸斷,百感悽惻。風蕭蕭而異響,雲漫漫而奇色。舟凝滯於水濱,
車逶遲於山側。櫂容與而詎前,馬寒鳴而不息。掩金觴而誰御,橫玉柱而霑軾。居
人愁臥,怳若有亡。日下壁而沈彩,月上軒而飛光。見紅蘭之受露,望青楸之離霜。
巡曾楹而空揜,撫錦幕而虛涼。知離夢之躑躅,意別魂之飛揚。故別雖一緒,事乃
萬族。至若龍馬銀鞍,朱軒繡軸。帳飲東都,送客金谷。琴羽張兮簫鼓陳,燕趙歌
兮傷美人。珠與玉兮豔暮秋,羅與綺兮嬌上春。驚駟馬之仰秣,聳淵魚之赤鱗。造
分手而銜涕,感寂漠而傷神。乃有劍客慚恩,少年報士。韓國趙廁,吳宮燕市。割
慈忍愛,離邦去里。瀝泣共訣,抆血相視。驅征馬而不顧,見行塵之時起。方銜感
於一劍,非買價於泉裏。金石震而色變,骨肉悲而心死。或乃邊郡未和,負羽從軍。
遼水無極,鴈山參雲。閨中風暖,陌上草薰。日出天而耀景,露下地而騰文。鏡朱
塵之照爛,襲青氣之煙熅。攀桃李兮不忍別,送愛子兮霑羅裙。至如一赴絕國,詎
相見期?視喬木兮故里,決北梁兮永辭。左右兮魂動,親賓兮淚滋。可班荊兮贈恨,
唯樽酒兮敘悲。值秋鴈兮飛日,當白露兮下時。怨復怨兮遠山曲,去復去兮長河湄。
又若君居淄右,妾家河陽。同瓊珮之晨照,共金爐之夕香。君結綬兮千里,惜瑤草
之徒芳。慚幽閨之琴瑟,晦高臺之流黃。春宮閟此青苔色,秋帳含茲明月光。夏簟
清兮晝不暮,冬釭凝兮夜何長!織錦曲兮泣已盡,迴文詩兮影獨傷。儻有華陰上士,
服食還山。術既妙而猶學,道已寂而未傳。守丹灶而不顧,鍊金鼎而方堅。駕鶴上
漢,驂鸞騰天。蹔遊萬里,少別千年。惟世間兮重別,謝主人兮依然。下有芍藥之
詩,佳人之歌。桑中衛女,上宮陳娥。春草碧色,春水綠波。送君南浦,傷如之何!
至乃秋露如珠,秋月如珪。明月白露,光陰往來。與子之別,思心徘徊。是以別方
不定,別理千名。有別必怨,有怨必盈。使人意奪神駭,心折骨驚。雖淵雲之墨妙,
嚴樂之筆精。金閨之諸彥,蘭臺之群英。賦有凌雲之稱,辯有雕龍之聲。誰能摹暫
離之狀,寫永訣之情者乎?

Essay on Parting
by Jiang Yan of southern dynasties

What's most gloomy to the soul is the parting experience. Moreover, Qin
and Wu are the remotest states. Yan and Song are a thousand miles apart.
When spring moss begins to grow or autumn winds suddenly arise, travelers,
therefore, will be heartbroken with all sorts of miserable emotions. Winds
sough in weird sounds. Clouds spread wide with quaint colors. The boat's
at the waterside, as if frozen there. The coach's at the hillside, as if
hindered on the long journey. As the oar's deliberately rowed, how can the
boat go fast? The horses neigh in cold ceaselessly. Cover up golden goblets;
who cares for drink now? Put aside the zither; tears wet the front bar on
the coach. Households at home lie in sorrow as if at a loss. Sunlight on
the wall moves downward with its color sinking. Moonlight on the pavilion
moves up with its brilliance reflected. When seeing red orchid bearing dews
and perceiving green Chinese catalpa covered with frost, when walking round
the high house shutting up emptiness and touching silk drapery feeling so
cold, one can know the traveling person should be wandering even in the dream
and can guess his parting soul should be hovering afar. Therefore, the feeling
of parting is the same, but conditions are of thousands.
       
Having tall horses with silvery saddles and crimson coaches with carved
axis ready, the host and the guest drink for parting in the tent outside
east capital as if bidding the guest farewell in JinGu Garden, where zithers
were played in a gloomy tune, fifes and drums on display, and heartbreaking
songs of Yan and Zhao saddened beauties around, where pearls and jade gleam
colorfully in late autumn and gauze and brocade show splendor in early spring,
where horses alarmed by loud music raise their heads in chewing fodder
and fishes with ruddy scales jumped high from deep creeks, and where tears
were shed when parting and hearts broken when thinking of solitary journey.
       
There are swordsmen ashamed of not repaying those for their kindness and
young knights intending to return favors as in events happening in Han Kingdom,
in the lavatory of Zhao Kingdom, in the palace of Wu Kingdom and in the
marketplace of Yan Kingdom. They either deserted their loved ones, or left
their own countries, or shed tears in final farewell, or wiped bloody eyes
staring at each other. They rode away at full gallop without looking back,
only rising dusts seen in the wake. They wanted to repay favors using swords
without intention of going to the nether world for any price in exchange.
But when bells and drums boomed, the color on the face changed.  The heart
stopped beating at the death of her own flesh and blood.
       
If there is no peace on the border, people join army bringing bows and arrows.
The Liao River is unlimited and Mount Yanmen towers into clouds. When the
wind into the bower feels warm and the grass in fields smells sweet, when
the sun rises in the sky so radiant and dews on the ground glitter with
multi-tinge, when scarlet dusts mirror a brilliant tint and green mists look
hazy and smoky, and just as hands are raised to hold branches of peach and
plum trees, parting is very much unbearable, especially with a beloved one,
tears wetting the gauze skirt.
       
As for departure for the remotest states, how can reunion be possible? Looking
at tall trees in homeland and saying the eternal goodbye on the northern
bridge, people around the parting person have their souls touched by distress,
and friends and relatives weep bitter tears. They can arrange boughs on
the ground to sit imparting their regret and show their sorrow by drinking
wine. Just on the day when wild geese in autumn fly south and when white
frost fall on earth, the parting person grieves and groans at zigzag spots
among distant hills and proceeds on and on alongside the long river.
       
If you live to the west of Ming River and my home is located in Heyang,
we bask in morning sun rays with jade on our dress and sit together round
an evening brass incense burner. When you go a thousand miles away with
a tied ribbon, it's pitiable for a fair herb to beget scent in vain. I feel
ashamed facing the zither in my quiet boudoir and let the yellow silk curtain
darken the high tower. Spring palace shuts out green color of moss; autumn
canopy's steeped in moonlight; summer bamboo mat's so cool and the day turns
to dusk too slow; the flame in winter lamp is like staying congealed and
the night is so long. Weaving my song into a silky letter exhausts my tears
in sobbing and writing a rondeau poem makes my lone self miserable.
       
If there's a Taoist on Mount Hua, who takes the elixir of life, he becomes
an immortal. His talent is great, but he still studies. His art reaches
a great stage, but not yet to the utmost. He keeps busy in making divine
pills and ignores everything else. He's firm in determination to finish them
in a brass cauldron. Then he rides on a stork into clouds or astride a phoenix
to heaven. He can travel a myriad miles in a short time and has a brief
separation as if a thousand years elapsed in the human world. Since mortals
look upon parting seriously, he takes leave of the host lingeringly.
       
Under heaven there's a poem of Chinese herbaceous peony and a song of a
beauty. There are girls in Sangzhong of Wei State and damsels in Shanggong
of Chen State. When spring grass turns verdant and spring water ripples
green, how can the anguish be endurable as seeing you off at Nanpu? When
autumn dew looks like pearl and autumn moon like a round jade, when the moon
is bright and dew is white, and when time comes and goes, I'm thinking of
you again and again after separation from you.
       
Therefore, people involving in parting are of various sorts, and situations
and reasons for parting are greatly different. If there's separation, there
will be regret, full of regret, which makes people's will lost, spirit terrified,
heart agonized and bone tormented. Even if there are superior articles
of Yuan and Yun, and excellent writings of Yan and Le, or even if there are
men of letters in JinGui and men of talent in Lantai, and even if there
is the best essay like Lingyun or best repartee like in Diaolong, who has
the ability of describing the current conditions of separation or depicting
the feelings of eternal parting?
作者: 山菊    时间: 2012-9-19 04:59
逸士威武~~~估计您是天下第一人了!

俺看原文都有困难,就献花告退啦:)




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