3 thoughts on “李白

  1. shinichi Post author

    憶舊遊寄譙郡元參軍

    (李白)

    憶昔洛陽董糟丘,爲余天津橋南造酒樓。黃金白璧買歌笑,一醉累月輕王侯。

    海內賢豪青雲客,就中與君心莫逆。迥山轉海不作難,傾情倒意無所惜。

    我向淮南攀桂枝,君留洛北愁夢思。不忍別,還相隨,相隨迢迢訪仙城。

    三十六曲水迴縈,一溪初入千花明。萬壑度盡松風聲,銀鞍金絡倒平地,
    漢東太守來相迎。

    紫陽之真人,邀我吹玉笙。餐霞樓上動仙樂,嘈然宛似鸞鳳鳴。

    袖長管催欲輕舉,漢中太守醉起舞。手持錦袍覆我身,我醉橫眠枕其股。

    當筵意氣凌九霄,星離雨散不終朝,分飛楚關山水遙。

    余既還山尋故巢,君亦歸家渡渭橋。君家嚴君勇貔虎,作尹幷州遏戎虜。

    五月相呼度太行,摧輪不道羊腸苦。行來北涼歲月深,感君貴義輕黃金。

    瓊杯綺食青玉案,使我醉飽無歸心。時時出向城西曲,晉祠流水如碧玉。

    浮舟弄水簫鼓鳴,微波龍鱗莎草綠。興來攜妓恣經過,其若楊花似雪何。

    紅粧欲醉宜斜日,百尺清潭寫翠娥。翠娥嬋娟初月輝,美人更唱舞羅衣。

    清風吹歌人空去,歌曲自繞行雲飛。此時行樂難再遇,西遊因獻長楊賦。

    北闕青雲不可期,東山白首還歸去。渭橋南頭一遇君,酇臺之北又離羣。

    問余別恨知多少,落花春暮爭紛紛。言亦不可盡,情亦不可極

    呼兒長跪緘此辭,寄君千里遙相憶。

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  2. shinichi Post author

    Exile’s Letter

    By Ezra Pound

    From the Chinese of Li Po, usually considered the greatest poet of China: written by him while in exile about 760 A. D., to the Hereditary War-Councillor of Sho, “recollecting former companionship.”

    SO-KIN of Rakuho, ancient friend, I now remember
    That you built me a special tavern,
    By the south side of the bridge at Ten-Shin.
    With yellow gold and white jewels
    we paid for the songs and laughter,
    And we were drunk for month after month,
    forgetting the kings and princes.
    Intelligent men came drifting in, from the sea
    and from the west border,
    And with them, and with you especially,
    there was nothing at cross-purpose;
    And they made nothing of sea-crossing
    or of mountain-crossing,
    If only they could be of that fellowship.
    And we all spoke out our hearts and minds …
    and without regret.
    And then I was sent off to South Wei,
    smothered in laurel groves,
    And you to the north of Raku-hoku,
    Till we had nothing but thoughts and memories between us.
    And when separation had come to its worst
    We met, and travelled together into Sen-Go
    Through all the thirty-six folds of the turning and twisting waters;
    Into a valley of a thousand bright flowers …
    that was the first valley,
    And on into ten thousand valleys
    full of voices and pine-winds.
    With silver harness and reins of gold,
    prostrating themselves on the ground,
    Out came the East-of-Kan foreman and his company;
    And there came also the “True-man” of Shi-yo to meet me,
    Playing on a jewelled mouth-organ.
    In the storied houses of San-Ko they gave us
    more Sennin music;
    Many instruments, like the sound of young phœnix broods.
    And the foreman of Kan-Chu, drunk,
    Danced because his long sleeves
    Wouldn’t keep still, with that music playing.
    And I, wrapped in brocade, went to sleep with my head on his lap,
    And my spirit so high that it was all over the heavens.

    And before the end of the day we were scattered like stars or rain.
    I had to be off to So, far away over the waters,
    You back to your river-bridge.
    And your father, who was brave as a leopard,
    Was governor in Hei Shu and put down the barbarian rabble.
    And one May he had you send for me, despite the long distance;
    And what with broken wheels and so on, I won’t say it wasn’t hard going …
    Over roads twisted like sheep’s guts.
    And I was still going, late in the year,
    in the cutting wind from the north,
    And thinking how little you cared for the cost …
    and you caring enough to pay it.
    Then what a reception!
    Red jade cups, food well set, on a blue jewelled table;
    And I was drunk, and had no thought of returning;
    And you would walk out with me to the western corner of the castle,
    To the dynastic temple, with the water about it clear as blue jade,
    With boats floating, and the sound of mouth-organs and drums,
    With ripples like dragon-scales going grass-green on the water,
    Pleasure lasting, with courtezans going and coming without hindrance,
    With the willow-flakes falling like snow,
    And the vermilioned girls getting drunk about sunset,
    And the waters a hundred feet deep reflecting green eyebrows—
    Eyebrows painted green are a fine sight in young moonlight,
    Gracefully painted—and the girls singing back at each other,
    Dancing in transparent brocade,
    And the wind lifting the song, and interrupting it,
    Tossing it up under the clouds.

    And all this comes to an end,
    And is not again to be met with.
    I went up to the court for examination,
    Tried Layu’s luck, offered the Choyu song,
    And got no promotion,
    And went back to the East Mountains white-headed.

    And once again we met, later, at the South Bridge head.
    And then the crowd broke up—you went north to San palace.
    And if you ask how I regret that parting?
    It is like the flowers falling at spring’s end,
    confused, whirled in a tangle.
    What is the use of talking! And there is no end of talking—
    There is no end of things in the heart.

    I call in the boy,
    Have him sit on his knees to write and seal this,
    And I send it a thousand miles, thinking.

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