The cool breeze brings the evening bell;
In the depth of bamboos concealed the old temple.
A visitor seeking for lodging at night;
The entangled weeds hinders his walking shoes.
What I love solely is the moon at the water bottom,
Which never flows away with the mountain brook.
東坡小詩:
但聞煙外鐘﹐不見煙中寺。幽人行未歸﹐草露濕芒屨。惟應山頭月﹐夜夜照來去。
I can hear the bell beyond the smoky mists,
But not perceiving the temple in the smoky mists.
The traveling man isn’t back home yet;
The dews on the grass wet his straw shoes.
Only the moon over the mountain top
Shining on him going and coming of a night.
守詮小詩:
落日寒蟬鳴﹐獨歸林下寺。柴屝夜未掩﹐片月隨行屨。惟聞犬吠聲﹐又入青蘿去。
The cicadas in cold chirping at the sunset;
I alone return to the temple in the forest.
The door made of tree branches isn’t shut at night;
The crescent moon follows me in my walking shoes.
I hear the barking of a dog
Fading into the green bushes.
The bad news comes like thundering down from clouds;
My pen almost drops on the ground in startling.
Heaven weeps with rains for evenings at a stretch;
The wind wails for the loss all day long.
The fairy boat carries you to the other world;
Your soul returns to the celestial stork terrace.*
I mourn deeply for your early demise;
Even an optimist will grieve.
I hate sham etiquette by nature in my unusual character
I want to ride on the waves of the blue sea to slay whales
None of my kinsfolk and friends understand me so well
That I have to pour out my feelings to the Providence
But there’s no celestial ladder far onto the heavenly road
And I grieve in vain without means to reach Him
What’s the intention of Heaven to give me life?
Since olden time men of talent died unknown.
Four:
It’s astonishing that time gone like water flowing away
So lamenting that years spent without accomplishments
Must seize every chance coming forth at dawn or dusk
So that no grief and sigh for life passed in vain when old
Wealth or poverty is not definitely fated for one
Life or death is unpredictable and undependable
Don’t you see the martyrs from olden time till now
Chanting poems on the guillotine?
Two:
The jealous wind blows strongly,
The swan goose in the sky pulls in its wings.
On which day can it spread its wings in the clouds
To fly to and perch on the peak of Mount Tai?
One:
When a dragon’s lurking in the depth of water,
No one knows it for thousands of years.
Once where the clouds fly up with it,
Frightening thunder rumbles in the jade pond.
Returning from a suburb of Zaohejing alone
The bright moon loves me so as to accompany me home
The fields around so quiet look eerily wide
The sky clear of clouds seems empty and brighter
I doubt it’s true or not what the blind man said
How can I depend on the foretelling of the good fate?
On which day can the complacent spring wind
Carry me over myriad miles to the divine capital?
The shattered white cloud floats all over the sky;
No pity for it that’s roaming in the wind.
May it sink into the soil as soon as possible,
So as to grow new twigs with green mists around.
The world-renowned panda,
Its home in China, among steep hills.
When hungry, vying for bamboo shoots with phoenix,
At leisure, looking as carefree as a hermit.
It’s so gentle as calm water, but haughty as well,
Its lovely gait looking like a rolling fluffy ball.
Having such small population, but great demand,
That makes it so popular and famous.
Raining hard and heavy, looking misty and foggy,
It’s pouring like waterfall with deep muddy poodles below.
Buds after buds fall on the emerald moss,
Green ripples woven on the water surface.
The gutters overflowed and muddy ground slippery,
A time fit to have guests for a feast at home.
Getting drunk with wine when toasting each other,
All are of a generous character, with contented feelings.
The wind whips myriad unbridled horses of clouds;
The heaven shoots the silver pellets of raindrops.
When the shower’s gone, the fine sky looks as clear as washed;
The golden disk emerges from the depth of thousand acres of blue.
A Poem Written at Watching-Fish-by-Flower-Bay in Hangzhou
The lovely sun falls in the center of the lake, being enervated,
Splashing with golden specks in the clear waves.
I love the distant hills, now bright, now dim, as sitting there,
Coveting alone the cool shade under the pine tree.
Got the Poem When Resting at the Flying Knoll
Before Fairy-Hidden Temple
Across the creek, a footpath zigzags round the single knoll;
Greener the leaves look as deeper into the forest.
The visitors are less and less at the arbor toward the dusk,
When cool breezes bring resounding bell after bell
At the arbor where willow twigs are snapped*,
The parting tears fill the golden cup.
As you go back a thousand miles away,
I send my love by the white cloud as far.
*In the ancient China arbors as resting places were
built every five miles along the thoroughfares
where people snapped willow twigs to give
to the person leaving as a token of love.
The green shade begets gusts of coolness,
And gives out gentle rustling melody in moonlit night.
If there always planted a thousand bamboos in the garden,
I can pillow my head, sleeping close by the “gentleman”.
*Ancient Chinese people compared bamboo to gentleman.
Written to the rhyme of a poem by an old gentleman
Seeking for Spring in vain, I keep wandering,
Despite the crows urging me in twilight.
Where the falling blossoms go?
And the water flows only to the sea.
I wish spring could be here all the year round;
Even if living to a hundred, no bones can avoid turning to ashes
What knitting the eyebrows all day for?
Please, enjoy poetry with a cup of wine.
The first poem:
The seagulls above the water are free of care
Following the sailing ships with spreading wings
They are not fearful of billows
Nor afraid of heavy storms
They fly up and down in the vast sky
And travel far and near over the boundless sea
Whenever it is a fine day
They will hover freely and leisurely.
The second poem:
The gale brings heavy rains with it
The billows surge like a chain of hills
The dark clouds dim the sea and sky
Fishes and ships all hidden somewhere
Please look at the seagull
Among winds and waves, now visible and now invisible
It can dart far and wide at will across myriad miles
And soar into the vast sky in self pride.
On an old tree in the village returned crows cawing;
The swallows are back to respective homes in the evening.
The old green is interlocked with the new green on the boughs;
The red flowers mingling with the purple ones by the fence.
雷达卡
楼主
显身卡
发表于 2011-12-18 23:09:19