雜詩(shī)二首

其一

巖巖鐘山首，

赫赫炎天路。

高明曜云門，

遠(yuǎn)景灼寒素。

昂昂累世士，

結(jié)根在所固。

呂望老匹夫，

茍為因世故。

管仲小囚臣，

獨(dú)能建功祚。

人生有何常，

但患年歲暮。

幸托不肖軀，

且當(dāng)猛虎步。

安能苦一身，

與世同舉厝。

由不慎小節(jié)，

庸夫笑我度。

呂望尚不希，

夷齊何足慕？

Two Poems

The peak of the Northern Pole rises in majesty,

sultry is the Southern Heaven’s road.

Haughty grandees shine at the Gate of the Clouds,

their distant radiance sears the cold and the humble.

The lofty scholar of a hundred years

takes his root in f irm ground.

Lü Wang was but a common old man

muddling along through his time. 1

Guan Zhong was a mere prisoner

but was able to accomplish a great cause. 2

Human life has little constancy,

I only fear the coming of old age.

Blessed with my useless body,

I would stride as f ierce as a tiger!

How can I suffer my entire span

and follow the behavior of the world?

As I do not stand on ceremony

those philistines laugh at my demeanor.

Lü Wang is not who I wish to emulate,

how can Guan Zhong3 be worthy of my envy?

其二

遠(yuǎn)送新行客，

歲暮乃來(lái)歸。

入門望愛(ài)子，

妻妾向人悲。

聞子不可見(jiàn)，

日已潛光輝。

孤墳在西北，

常念君來(lái)遲。

褰裳上墟丘，

但見(jiàn)蒿與薇。

白骨歸黃泉，

肌體乘塵飛。

生時(shí)不識(shí)父，

死后知我誰(shuí)？

孤魂游窮暮，

飄飖安所依？

人生圖嗣息，

爾死我念追。

俯仰內(nèi)傷心，

不覺(jué)淚沾衣。

人生自有命，

但恨生日希。

Far away I saw off my guest on his new journey;

and came home only at the year’s end.

Entering the door I looked for my beloved son,

but found my wives weeping in sorrow.

They told me my son could no longer be seen,

the sun has hidden its brilliance.

“His lonely grave is north and west from here,

we always feared you’d come back late. ”

Clutching my robes I climb the desolate mound,

but all I can see is wormwood and ferns.

His white bones return to the Yellow Springs4,

his body rides with the flying dust.

Alive he never got to know his father,

now dead, how can he f ind me?

A lonely ghost he wanders about in the bleak night,

drifting and floating—where is his resting place?

All men want to have offspring,

now you are dead I will seek after you.

My head bobs up and down, my heart is torn,

not noticing that tears have drenched my clothes.

Each of our lives has its own fate,

why were the days granted to you so few?

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