| 題名： | 彭衙行 |
| 作者： | 杜甫 |
| 憶昔避賊初，北走經險艱。夜深彭衙道，月照白水山。盡室久徒步，逢人多厚顏。參差谷鳥吟，不見遊子還。癡女飢齩我，啼畏虎狼聞。懷中掩其口，反側聲愈嗔。小兒強解事，故索苦李餐。一旬半雷雨，泥濘相牽攀。既無禦雨備，徑滑衣又寒。有時經契闊，竟日數里間。野果充餱糧，卑枝成屋椽。早行石上水，暮宿天邊煙。少留周家窪，欲出蘆子關。故人有孫宰，高義薄曾雲。延客已曛黑，張燈啓重門。煖湯濯我足，剪紙招我魂。從此出妻孥，相視涕闌干。衆雛爛熳睡，喚起霑盤餐。誓將與夫子，永結爲弟昆。遂空所坐堂，安居奉我歡。誰肯艱難際，豁達露心肝。別來歲月周，胡羯仍搆患。何當有翅翎，飛去墮爾前。 | |
| 英譯： |
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night deepened on Peng-ya Road,
the moon shone over White-water Hills.
A whole family endlessly trudging,
begging without shame from the people we met:
valley birds sang, a jangle of $(soft)$ voices;
we didn't see a $(single)$ traveler returning.
The baby girl in her hunger bit me;
fearful that tigers or wolves would hear $(her cries)$,
I hugged her to my chest, muffling her mouth,
but she squirmed and wailed louder than before.
The little boy pretended he knew what was happening;
importantly he searched for sour plums to eat.
Ten days, half in rain and thunder,
through mud and slime we pulled each other on.
There was no escaping from the rain,
trails slick, clothes wet and clammy;
getting past the hardest places,
a whole day advanced us no more than three or four li.
Mountain fruits served for rations,
low-hung branches were our rafter and roof.
Mornings we traveled by rock-bedded streams,
evenings camped in mists that closed in the sky.
We stopped a little while at the marsh of Tung-chia,
thinking to go out by Lu-tzu Pass;
an old friend there, Sun Tsai,
ideals higher than the piled-up clouds;
he came out to meet us as dusk turned to darkness,
called for torches, opening gate after gate,
heated water to wash our feet,
cut strips of paper to call back our souls.
Then his wife and children came;
seeing us, their tears fell in streams.
My little chicks had gone sound to sleep;
he called them to wake up and eat from his plate,
said he would make a vow with me,
the two of us to be brothers forever.
At last he cleared the room where we sat,
wished us goodnight, all he had at our command.
Who is willing, in the hard, bleak times,
to break open, lay bare his innermost heart?
Parting from you, a year of months has rounded,
Tartar tribes still plotting evil,
and I think how it would be to have strong wings
that would carry me away, set me down before you.
I remember when we first fled the rebels, hurrying north over dangerous trails; night deepened on P'eng-ya Road, the moon shone over White-water Hills. A whole family endlessly trudging, begging without shame from the people we met: valley birds sang, a jangle of $(soft)$ voices; we didn't see a $(single)$ traveler returning. The baby girl in her hunger bit me; fearful that tigers or wolves would hear $(her cries)$, I hugged her to my chest, muffling her mouth, but she squirmed and wailed louder than before. The little boy pretended he knew what was happening; importantly he searched for sour plums to eat. Ten days, half in rain and thunder, through mud and slime we pulled each other on. There was no escaping from the rain, trails slick, clothes wet and clammy; getting past the hardest places, a whole day advanced us no more than three or four li. Mountain fruits served for rations, low-hung branches were our rafter and roof. Mornings we traveled by rock-bedded streams, evenings camped in mists that closed in the sky. We stopped a little while at the marsh of T'ung-chia, thinking to go out by Lu-tzu Pass; an old friend there, Sun Tsai, ideals higher than the piled-up clouds; he came out to meet us as dusk turned to darkness, called for torches, opening gate after gate, heated water to wash our feet, cut strips of paper to call back our souls. Then his wife and children came; seeing us, their tears fell in streams. My little chicks had gone sound to sleep; he called them to wake up and eat from his plate, said he would make a vow with me, the two of us to be brothers forever. At last he cleared the room where we sat, wished us goodnight, all he had at our command. Who is willing, in the hard, bleak times, to break open, lay bare his innermost heart? Parting from you, a year of months has rounded, Tartar tribes still plotting evil, and I think how it would be to have strong wings that would carry me away, set me down before you. I remember when we started to flee the rebels, We went northward through danger and hardship. In the depth of night, on the road to P'eng-ya, We left Po-shui with the moon shining on the hills. The whole family traveled long on foot; We felt ashamed whenever we saw someone on the road. Here and there, birds sang in the ravines; We met not a single person coming from the opposite direction. The silly little daughter tried to bite me when she felt hungry; I feared her crying might attack the attention of tigers and wolves; I held her mouth tight to my bosom; She wiggled free and wailed the more. My little boy pre- tended to be smart, Purposely wanting to eat the sour plums on the roadside tree. Half of ten days, we encountered thunderstorms; Hand in han, we struggled through the mud. We had not only failed to provide our- selves with protection against rain, We also found the road too slippery and our clothing too thin. Sometimes, after considerable hardship, We were able to cover only two miles a day. Wild berries were our food, And low branches our temporary shelter. In the mornings we waded through water in the rodky gullies; Toward evening we searched the horizon for smoke that might indicate a lodging. At last, we made a short stop at the T'ung-chia Marsh In preparation for our journey out of the Lu-tzu Pass. Among my friends was Mr. Sun Tsai, Whose lofty ideals of hospitality reached above the clouds. It was pitch dark when we arrived. Lamps were lit, and one gate after another was opened to admit us. The servants brought warm water to bathe my weary feet; They hung paper banners to recall my shocked, still wandering soul. His wife and children came out to meet us; Their tears flowed when they saw our condition. My children were so tired that they had fallen asleep; They were awakened and given platters of food. "You and I shall swear," said Mr. Sun, "That we two shall be brothers eternally." And the hall where we sat was prepared for us; And we were told to feel completely at home. In these dangerous times, who has been so ready To confide in me frankly his innermost plans? A whole year has passed since we separated; The Tatar hordes are still rampant. How I wish that I might have wings To fly at once to your presence! |
| 日譯： | 暫無日譯內容 |