| 題名： | 石鼓歌 |
| 作者： | 韓愈 |
| 張生手持石鼓文，勸我試作石鼓歌。少陵無人謫仙死，才薄將奈石鼓何。周綱陵遲四海沸，宣王憤起揮天戈。大開明堂受朝賀，諸侯劒佩鳴相磨。蒐于岐陽騁雄俊，萬里禽獸皆遮羅。鐫功勒成告萬世，鑿石作鼓隳嵯峨。從臣才藝咸第一，揀選撰刻留山阿。雨淋日炙野火燎，鬼物守護煩撝呵。公從何處得紙本，毫髮盡備無差訛。辭嚴義密讀難曉，字體不類隸與科。年深豈免有缺畫，快劒斫斷生蛟鼉。鸞翔鳳翥衆僊下，珊瑚碧樹交枝柯。金繩鐵索鎖紐壯，古鼎躍水龍騰梭。陋儒編詩不收入，二雅褊迫無委蛇。孔子西行不到秦，掎摭星宿遺羲娥。嗟予好古生苦晚，對此涕淚雙滂沱。憶昔初蒙博士徴，其年始改稱元和。故人從軍在右輔，爲我度量掘臼科。濯冠沐浴告祭酒，如此至寶存豈多。氊包席裹可立致，十鼓祗載數駱駝。薦諸太廟比郜鼎，光價豈止百倍過。聖恩若許留太學，諸生講解得切磋。觀經鴻都尚填咽，坐見舉國來奔波。剜苔剔蘚露節角，安置妥帖平不頗。大廈深簷與蓋覆，經歷久遠期無佗。中朝大官老於事，詎肯感激徒媕婀。牧童敲火牛礪角，誰復著手爲摩挲。日銷月鑠就埋沒，六年西顧空吟哦。羲之俗書趁姿媚，數紙尚可博白鵝。繼周八代爭戰罷，無人收拾理則那。方今太平日無事，柄任儒術崇丘軻。安能以此上論列，願借辨口如懸河。石鼓之歌止於此，嗚呼吾意其蹉跎。 | |
| 英譯： |
Chang handed me this tracing, from the stone drums,
Beseeching me to write a poem on the stone drums.
Tu Fu has gone. Li Po is dead.
What can my poor talent do for the stone drums?
…When the Chou power waned and China was bubbling,
Emperor Hsüan, up in wrath, waved his holy spear
And opened his Great Audience, receiving all the tributes
Of kings and lords who came to him with a tune of clanging weapons.
They held a hunt in Ch’i-yang and proved their marksmanship:
Fallen birds and animals were strewn three thousand miles.
And the exploit was recorded, to inform new generations….
Cut out of jutting cliffs, these drums made of stone–
On which poets and artisans, all of the first order,
Had indited and chiselled-were set in the deep mountains
To be washed by rain, baked by sun, burned by wildfire,
Eyed by evil spirits, and protected by the gods.
…Where can he have found the tracing on this paper?–
True to the original, not altered by a hair,
The meaning deep, the phrases cryptic, difficult to read,
And the style of characters neither square nor tadpole.
Time has not yet vanquished the beauty of these letters–
Looking like sharp daggers that pierce live crocodiles.
Like phoenix-mates dancing, like angels hovering down,
Like trees of jade and coral with interlocking branches,
Like golden cord and iron chain tied together tight,
Like incense-tripods flung in the sea, like dragons mounting heaven.
Historians, gathering ancient poems, forgot to gather these.
To make the two Books of Musical Song more colourful and striking;
Confucius journeyed in the west, but not to the Ch’in Kingdom.
He chose our planet and our stars but missed the sun and moon…
I who am fond of antiquity was born too late
And, thinking of these wonderful things, cannot hold back my tears….
I remember, when I was awarded my highest degree,
During the first year of Yüan-ho,
How a friend of mine, then at the western camp,
Offered to assist me in removing these old relics.
I bathed and changed, then made my plea to the college president
And urged on him the rareness of these most precious things.
They could be wrapped in rugs, be packed and sent in boxes
And carried on only a few camels: ten stone drums
To grace the Imperial Temple like the Incense-pot of Kao–
Or their Iustre and their value would increase a hundred fold,
If the monarch would present them to the university,
Where students could study them and doubtless decipher them,
And multitudes, attracted to the capital of culture
From all corners of the empire, would be quick to gather.
We could scour the moss, pick out the dirt, restore the original surface,
And lodge them in a fitting and secure place for ever,
Covered by a massive building with wide eaves,
Where nothing more might happen to them as it had before.
… But government officials grow fixed in their ways
And never will initiate beyond old precedent;
So herdboys strike the drums for fire, cows polish horns on them,
With no one to handle them reverentially.
Still aging and decaying, soon they may be effaced.
Six years I have signed for them, chanting toward the west…
The familiar script of Wang Hsi-chih, beautiful though it was,
Could be had, several pages, just for a few white geese!
But now, eight dynasties after the Chou, and all the wars over,
Why should there be nobody caring for these drums?
The empire is at peace, the government free.
Poets again are honoured and Confucians and Mencians…
Oh, how may this petition be carried to the throne?
It needs indeed an eloquent flow, like a cataract–
But alas, my voice has broken, in my song of the stone drums,
To a sound of supplication choked with its own tears.
MR. CHANG in his hand grasps the stone drum rubbing He encourages me to compose a stone drum song. The bard of Shao Ling is no more The banished angel is dead; My talents are scanty, how can I deal with such a theme! When the administration of Chou decayed and the empire was in turmoil, Then the Emperor Hsuan rose in his might and brandished his celestial spear. Wide were flung the doors of the "bright hall" to receive Court congratulations, Marquises (came) with their pendent swords jangling as they rattled against each other, They hunted on the southern slopes of Mount Ch’i The galloping of their horses was a fine sight; For ten thousand miles (the corpses) of birds and animals were strewn and scattered. He cut and chiselled (these drums) to record his achievement for the information of ages to come; To chisel the stone to make the drums they destroyed a jutting crag. The officials he employed were all first-class craftsmen He selected them and bade them compose the text and engrave it: But the stones were left exposed on the hill-side. The rain has soaked them, the sun has scorched them, forest fires have burnt them, But the fairy spirits have guarded them and cherished them. From where, Mr. Chang, I wonder did you get this rubbing? Not a hair's breadth differing from the original, without the least error The style is severe, the meaning secret and hard to understand; The style of the characters is not the "li" or the tadpole Years have passed and some strokes must be missing; The strokes are like sharp swords that cut in twain living dragons and lizards, The luan soar and the phœnix wheel, a crowd of immortals beneath them; The coral and jade trees entwine their branches interlocked, Golden cords and iron ropes twist and interlock (Elusive as) the ancient tripod that leapt into the waters, Or a shuttle rising to heaven in the form of a dragon. The meagre scholars (of that day) wrote but forgot to mention them, Therefore the Two Ya were constricted and not entirely complete. Confucius on his journey to the west did not reach Ch’in, So his anthology as it were included the stars but omitted the sun and moon. Alas! I luckless who love ancient things was born too late And when I think of this my tears flow down like torrents; I remember when I was first appointed Doctor in the Academy In the first year of Yüan-ho. An old friend who was a soldier in the garrison of the right Went into the matter for me and excavated round the site where the drums lay buried. I washed my hat and myself with reverent ceremony before reporting to my chief saying "How many precious things like these have been preserved? They ought to be wrapped in felt and covered in matting and then could be removed speedily; These ten drums could be carried easily on the backs of a few camels. My proposal is they should be (exhibited) in the Great Temple like the Kao incense tripod, But their glory and value exceed the latter by more than a hundredfold; Or if his holy Majesty permits let them be put in the academy Where scholars would be able to expound and explain them by intensive research (Just as in the olden days) when the Classics (were engraved in stone) and set up outside the Hung-tu. Then (the carriages) would fill the street, and while men sat and looked the whole country would come hastening like waves of the sea. Scoop out the lichen and scrape the moss to expose the characters knots and horns, Place them in precise arrangement, evenly and without crooked-ness (Build) a massive pavilion with deep eaves to cover it That will last for long periods and defy time." But the great officials of court had grown slack in their duties How could they be interested or moved? for choice they vacillate and hesitate; So the shepherd boy strikes fire on the drums and the cattle sharpen their horns on them, Who else is there to caress or care for them? Just now all is peaceful and there are no troubles, Authority is entrusted to men of learning Men honour Confucius and Mencius: But how can I get this matter put down for fuller considera-tion? I wish I could borrow the mouth of an orator that flowed like a waterfall. The song of the stone drums finishes here, But alas! My thoughts are all fruitless and vain $((Since I made the above recommendation without success))$ Suns have waxed and moons waned, and soon they will be buried and disappear. For six years I have gazed to the west in vain making my plaint. Wang Hsi-chih's carved script was the cause of adoration and pleasure, Yet some papers of them could be exchanged for a few white geese. Since Chou there have been eight dynasties fraught with strife, which only now has ceased, Yet no one collects or cares for these drums. $(What is the reason for it?)$ Chang handed me this tracing, from the stone drums, Beseeching me to write a poem on the stone drums. Tu Fu has gone. Li Po is dead. What can my poor talent do for the stone drums? ... When the Chou power waned and China was bubbling, Emperor Hsüan, up in wrath, waved his holy spear And opened his Great Audience, receiving all the tributes Of kings and lords who came to him with a tune of clanging weapons. They held a hunt in Ch'i-yang and proved their marksmanship: Fallen birds and animals were strewn three thousand miles: And the exploit was recorded, to inform new generations.... Cut out of jutting cliffs, these drums made of stone— On which poets and artisans, all of the first order, Had indited and chiselled—were set in the deep mountains To be washed by rain, baked by sun, burned by wildfire, Eyed by evil spirits, and protected by the gods. ... Where can he have found the tracing on this paper?— True to the original, not altered by a hair, The meaning deep, the phrases cryptic, difficult to read, And the style of the characters neither square nor tadpole. Time has not yet vanquished the beauty of these letters— Looking like sharp daggers that pierce live crocodiles, Like phoenix-mates dancing, like angels hovering down, Like trees of jade and coral with interlocking branches, Like golden cord and iron chain tied together tight, Like incense-tripods flung in the sea, like dragons mounting heaven. Historians, gathering ancient poems, forgot to gather these, To make the two Books of Musical Song more colourful and striking; Confucius journeyed in the west, but not to the Ch'in Kingdom, He chose our planet and our stars but missed the sun and moon.... I who am fond of antiquity, was born too late And, thinking of these wonderful things, cannot hold back my tears ... I remember, when I was awarded my highest degree, During the first year of Yüan-ho, How a friend of mine, then at the western camp, Offered to assist me in removing these old relics. I bathed and changed, then made my plea to the college president And urged on him the rareness of these most precious things. They could be wrapped in rugs, be packed and sent in boxes And carried on only a few camels: ten stone drums To grace the Imperial Temple like the Incense-Pot of Kao— Or their lustre and their value would increase a hundredfold, If the monarch would present them to the university, Where students could study them and doubtless decipher them, And multitudes, attracted to the capital of culture From all corners of the Empire, would be quick to gather. We could scour the moss, pick out the dirt, restore the original surface, And lodge them in a fitting and secure place for ever, Covered by a massive building with wide eaves Where nothing more might happen to them as it had before. ... But government officials grow fixed in their ways And never will initiate beyond old precedent; So herd-boys strike the drums for fire, cows polish horns on them, With no one to handle them reverentially. Still ageing and decaying, soon they may be effaced. Six years I have sighed for them, chanting toward the west.... The familiar script of Wang Hsi-chih, beautiful though it was, Could be had, several pages, just for a few white geese! But now, eight dynasties after the Chou, and all the wars over, Why should there be nobody caring for these drums? The Empire is at peace, the government free. Poets again are honoured and Confucians and Mencians.... Oh, how may this petition be carried to the throne? It needs indeed an eloquent flow, like a cataract— But, alas, my voice has broken, in my song of the stone drums, To a sound of supplication choked with its own tears. Zhang, rubbings of the Stone Drums in hand, Urged me to try for an ode in their stand. Shaoling of his laureateship deprived, The Banished Fairy having not survived, O Drums, How could my limited talents Be worthy of your high acomplishments? With the reign of Zhou steadily declining, The whole land in turmoil lay repining. King Xuan resolved to set his state right, The Sword of Justice he weilded with great might. Flung wide were the doors of the Grand Hall, Throned he was to be cheered by all, Dukes and barons shoulders rubbing, Their swords and pendants gaily jangling. South of Mount Qi o'er the hunting ground, Galloped the brilliant and brave; For countless miles all around, Birds and beasts fell their preys. To have the feats engraved for eternity, Drums were chipped from rock tumbled off crags lofty. The arts and talents of the courtiers All ranked among the superiors. They picked and chose, wrote and carved till, all ready, The drums were laid in the nook of a valley. Rain-drenched, sun-baked, and wild fire grilled, They begged of daemons to warn and shield. "Where on earth did you get such rubbings, Truthful and exact down to the finest tracings?" Close in sense and strict in expression, The text is hard for comprehension. The calligraphy of the scroll Is neither "Official" nor "Tadpole". How could it be uneroded, being ages old? Yet what masterful strokes – and behold! Like soaring dragons hacked by swords whittling, Like phoenix-walzing, argus-wheeling, A host of fairies fast descending, Coral and jade trees with their branches entwining. Locked by iron-chains and gold-shackles, They wrest and wring; Like the Ancient Tripods and Dragon-shuttles, They skip and spring. Pedants are they who had the work omitted, While the Book of Songs was being edited. And its two sections of Hymns are too restricted To have this grand piece properly admitted. Confucius never reached Qin While westward he was touring. So, galaxies of poems though he had collected, A gem that beams like Sun and Moon was neglected. What a pity indeed that I, Whom antiquities always fascinate, Should have been born ever so late. Down on my cheeks tears poured straight, As I pondered on the Drums' fate! It all happened – When to the Doctoratel I was first named, And the reign of Yuanho just proclaimed. An old friend of mine in the West Garrison served, Who helped me have the drums located and unearthed, Having washed my hat and bathed, To the Academy Dean I spake: Of treasures like these how many could have remained: But rug- or mat-wrapped, they could be readily obtained. And with the ten drums to carry Just a few camels are necessary. If in the Ancestral Temple They are enshrined as a sample, To the Gao Tripod they would be comparable, And indeed a hundred-fold more splendent and valuable. If by the Emperor's special grace, In the Academy allowed a place, Among the students they are sure to create Diligent study and fruitful debate. For the Inscribed Classics Even Hongdu was choked with viewers; To have a peep of our relics People would soon flock from all quarters. With lichen raked and moss scraped, Their lines and angles kept in hard shape, Solid and safe, on smooth ground firmly laid, A great hall to shield and deep eaves to shade, O may these Drums be blessed by Fate, And go down to eternity. But service-worn, the high court official Being callous and non-commital, How could his zest be ever kindled? – So he just hung back and dawdled! Cowherds kept striking fire on each drum; And for cow-horns whetstones they've all become. Who then has ever come again To care and stroke these remains? Eroded and consumed as days and months slipped by, From memory their radiance began to fade and die, For six years, westward, straining my eye, Ah me, what else could I do but sing and sigh? Of Xizhi's popular script, seeking charm and ease, Even a few sheets had won him the white geese $(How ridiculous it is indeed)$ $(That none should have paid the Drums any heed)$ Ever since Zhou, for eight dynasties, After the end of all hostilities! Now a long and secure peace has reigned, With creeds of Confucius and Mencius ordained, And powers by their disciples firmly obtained, How, then, could my above points be re-gained? Fain would I loose my torrential eloquence To bring them all into royal presence. But alas, alas. This Ode to the Stone Drums must now be ended. Would all not prove in vain that I've intended? |
| 日譯： |
張籍が石の石摺を持って来て
私に石鼓の歌を作らぬかという
杜甫も李白もすでに亡い今
私ごとき才のものが
どうして石鼓の歌などできようか
昔 周朝が衰微して
四海擾乱 鼎の沸くがごときとき
宜王憤起して戈をふるい
大いに明堂を開いて朝賀を受け
諸侯も剣と佩玉を鳴らして来たり会した
岐山の南に狩りして駿馬を駆れば
万里の間の禽獣は皆網に入った
この中興の成功を
石に刻んで万古に伝えようと
嵯峨たる山をこぼち 石をほって石鼓を作り
臣下の才芸第一の者をえらび
文を作り石に刻んで山辺に留めた
その後雨そそぎ日にさらされ野火に焼かれたが
鬼神がきぴしく守護して今に至り
幸い破壊もしなかった
張君は果してどこからこの拓本を手に入れたのか
文字は細かいところまで備わっていて少しの差訛もない
辞義は厳密で一読解し難く
字体は隷でもなく蜊斗でもない
年代久しければ缺画あるも免れぬが
その字は快剣で生きた蛟鼉を砍るごとく
鶯飛び風舞い群仙の天くだるごとく
珊瑚や碧樹の枝を交えるごとく かねのなら
金繩鉄索で強くしばりつけるごとく
古い鼎が水から躍り出るがごとく
壁上の梭が竜に化して昇天した言い伝えのごとくだ
この石鼓の文をつまらぬ儒者は詩に編入するを知らず
詩経の大雅といい小雅といい
みな窮屈でゆとりがない
孔子は西に旅して周の都まで行ったが
楽の地までは行かぬのでこの石鼓のあるを知らず
それ故詩経をえらぶにも
小さな星を拾いあつめて日月を落とした
ああ私は古を好みながら
余りに生まれ方がおそすぎた
この石鼓文に向かって徒らに双涙を流すばかりだ
億えば昔 初めて博士に召し出され
その年 元号は元和と改まったが
旧友に鳳翔の軍隊につとめるものあり
私のために穴を掘って石鼓をとり出そうと計画した
私は冠を洗い 斉戒沐浴して祭酒に告げた
「かかる至宝は世に多くはない
毛氈にくるみ こもに包めばすぐに持ってこられること
十の石鼓は数匹の路駝に載せれば足りる
これを太廟に納めれば
あの郜鼎に比べても光価は百倍に止まらぬ
天子がこれを大学に留め置くを許したまわば
諸生はこれを研究して切瑳琢磨するだろう
鴻都門の石経すらも 見る者雑沓したという
おそらくは全国の人がどっと見学に集まるであろう
石の上の苔をけずって文字の角角を露わにし
平らかで傾かぬように安置して
大きな家や深いのきで蔽い
永遠に無水であることを期したい」と
しかし朝廷の大官は老練で
私の提言に感激もせず
ただぐずぐずしているばかりだった
牧童は石をたたいて火をきり出し
牛はこの石で角をとぎ
誰とて大事になでさする者もない
日に月にすりへってやがては埋もれてしまうだろう
それを思ってこの六年間
西を向いては嘆息した
王義之の俗っぽい書は形態の媚かさばかりを追っているが
それでも数枚の紙で白鵝と交換えた
周の後八代 もはや戦乱も終わったのに
誰もこれを取り収めぬのは何たる道理だ
今や太平無事の世に
政治は儒学を主として孔孟を尊ぶ
どうすればこれを奏上して審議を加えてもらえるだろう
願わくは懸河のごとき弁才を借りたい
私の石鼓の歌はこれでやめるが
ああ 私の心はどうしても沈みがちになってくる
張生 手に石鼓（せきこ）の文を持し 我れに勧（すす）めて試（こころ）み石鼓の歌を作らしむ 少陵（しょうりょう）に人（ひと）無く 謫仙（たくせん）死す 才（さい）薄くして将（まさ）に石鼓を奈何（いかん）とする 周綱（しゅうこう）陵遲（りょうち）して 四海沸（わ）き 宣王憤起して 天戈（てんか）を揮（ふる）う 大いに明堂を開いて 朝賀（ちょうが）を受け 諸侯の劍佩（けんぱい） 鳴って相（あい）磨（ま）す 岐陽（ぎよう）に蒐（かり）して 雄俊を騁（は）せ 万里の禽獣 皆遮羅（しゃら）せらる 功を鐫（え）り成（せい）を勒（ろく）して 万世に告げ 石を鑿（ほ）り鼓を作って 嵯峨たるを隳（やぶ）る 従臣の才芸 咸（ことごと）く第一 揀選（かんせん）譔刻（せんこく）して 山阿（さんあ）に留（とど）む 雨淋（そそ）ぎ日炙（あぶ）りて 野火燎（や）くも 鬼物守護して 撝呵（きか）を煩わす 公何処（いずこ）従（よ）りして紙本（しほん）を得たる 毫髪（ごうはつ）尽（ことごと）く備（そな）わりて差訛（さか）無し 辞厳（げん）に義密（みつ）にして 読めども曉（さと）り難く 字体 隷（れい）と蝌（か）とに類せず 年（とし）深くして豈（あに）缺画（けつかく）有るを免（まぬか）れんや 快劍斫（き）り断つ 生蛟鼉（せいこうだ） 鸞翔（かけ）り鳳翥（と）んで 衆仙（しゅうせん）下（くだ）り 珊瑚（さんご）碧樹（へきじゅ） 枝柯（しか）を交（まじ）う 金繩（きんじょう）鉄索（てつさく） 鎖紐（さちゅう）すること壮なり 古鼎（こてい）水に躍って 竜梭（りゅうさ）を騰（あ）ぐ 陋儒（ろうじゅ）詩を編みて 入るるを得ず 二雅は褊迫（へんぱく）にして 委蛇（いだ）たる無し 孔子西に行（ゆ）いて 秦に到らず 星宿（せいしゅく）を掎摭（きせき）して義娥（ぎが）を遺（のこ）す 嗟（ああ） 余（われい）古（にしえ）を好めども 生（う）まるること苦（はなは）だ晩（おそ）し 此（こ）れに封して涕淚（ているい）双（ふた）つながら滂沱（ぼうだ）たり 憶う 昔 初めて博士の徵（めし）を蒙（こうむ）り 其の年始めて改めて元和（げんな）と称（しょう）す 故人軍に従って右輔（ゆうほ）に在り 我が為（ため）に臼科（きゅうか）を掘らんことを量度（はか）る 冠（かんむり）を濯（あら）い沐浴（もくよく）して祭酒に告ぐ 此（かく）の如き至宝は存すること豈（あに）多からんや 氈（せん）に包み席（むしろ）に裹（つつ）んて 立（たちどころ）に致す可（べ）し 十鼓祇（ただ）数（すう）駱駝（らくだ）に載するのみ 諸（これ）を太廟に薦（すす）めて郜鼎（こうてい）に比すれは 光価（こうか） 豈止（た）だに百倍過ぐるのみならんや 聖恩若（も）し太学に留（とど）むるを許さば 諸生講解して 切磋（せつさ）することを得ん 経（けい）を鴻都（こうと）に観るも 尚（なお）填（てん）咽（えつ）す 坐（そぞろ）に見ん 国を挙げて来たり奔波（ほんぱ）せんことを 苔を剜（えぐ）り蘚（こけ）を剔（は）いで 節角を露（あら）わし 妥帖（だちょう）平らかにして 頗（かたむ）かざるところに安置せん 大廈（たいか）深簷（しんえん） 与（ため）に覆蓋（ふがい）して 久遠を歴経して 佗（た）無からんことを期す 中朝の大官は事に老（な）る 詎（なん）ぞ肯（あ）えて感激せん 徒（いたずら）に媕娿（あんあ）たり 牧童は火を敲（たた）き 牛は角を礪（と）ぐ 誰（たれ）か復（また）手を着けて爲（ため）に摩挲（まざ）せん 日に銷（き）え月に鑠（き）えて 埋没に就（つ）く 六年 西を顧（かえり）みて空（むな）しく吟哦（ぎんが）す 羲之（ぎし）の俗書は姿の媚（び）なるを趂（お）うも 数紙（すうし） 尚（なお）白鵝（はくが）に博（か）う可し 周に継ぐもの八代 爭戦罷（や）み 人の収拾する無きは 理 則（すなわ）ち那（なん）ぞや 方今（ほうこん） 太平（たいへい） 日に無事 柄（へい）は儒術を用いて邱軻（きゅうか）を崇（あが）む 安（いずく）んぞ能（よ）く此（こ）れを以て上（たてまつ）りて論列せん 願わくは辯口（べんこう）の懸河（けんが）の如きを借（か）らん 石鼓の歌は此（ここ）に止（や）む 嗚呼（ああ） 我が意 其（そ）れ蹉跎（さた）たり 張生 手に石鼓の文を持し 我れに勧めて試み石鼓の歌を作らしむ 少陵に人無く 謫仙死す 才薄くして将に石鼓を奈何とする 周綱陵遲して 四海沸き 宣王憤起して 天戈を揮う 大いに明堂を開いて 朝賀を受け 諸侯の劍佩 鳴って相磨す 岐陽に蒐して 雄俊を騁せ 万里の禽獣 皆遮羅せらる 功を鐫り成を勒して 万世に告げ 石を鑿り鼓を作って 嵯峨たるを隳る 従臣の才芸 咸く第一 揀選譔刻して 山阿に留む 雨淋ぎ日炙りて 野火燎くも 鬼物守護して 撝呵を煩わす 公何処従りして紙本を得たる 毫髪尽く備わりて差訛無し 辞厳に義密にして 読めども曉り難く 字体 隷と蝌とに類せず 年深くして豈缺画有るを免れんや 快劍斫り断つ 生蛟鼉 鸞翔り鳳翥んで 衆仙下り 珊瑚碧樹 枝柯を交う 金繩鉄索 鎖紐すること壮なり 古鼎水に躍って 竜梭を騰ぐ 陋儒詩を編みて 入るるを得ず 二雅は褊迫にして 委蛇たる無し 孔子西に行いて 秦に到らず 星宿を掎摭して義娥を遺す 嗟 余古を好めども 生まるること苦だ晩し 此れに封して涕淚双つながら滂沱たり 憶う 昔 初めて博士の徵を蒙り 其の年始めて改めて元和と称す 故人軍に従って右輔に在り 我が為に臼科を掘らんことを量度る 冠を濯沐浴して祭酒に告ぐ 此の如き至宝は存すること豈多からんや 氈に包み席に裹んて 立に致す可し 十鼓祇数駱駝に載するのみ 諸を太廟に薦めて郜鼎に比すれは 光価 豈止だに百倍過ぐるのみならんや 聖恩若し太学に留むるを許さば 諸生講解して 切磋することを得ん 経を鴻都に観るも 尚填咽す 坐に見ん 国を挙げて来たり奔波せんことを 苔を剜り蘚を剔いで 節角を露わし 妥帖平らかにして 頗かざるところに安置せん 大廈深簷 与に覆蓋して 久遠を歴経して 佗無からんことを期す 中朝の大官は事に老る 詎ぞ肯えて感激せん 徒に媕娿たり 牧童は火を敲き 牛は角を礪ぐ 誰か復手を着けて爲に摩挲せん 日に銷え月に鑠えて 埋没に就く 六年 西を顧みて空しく吟哦す 羲之の俗書は姿の媚なるを趂うも 数紙 尚白鵝に博う可し 周に継ぐもの八代 爭戦罷み 人の収拾する無きは 理 則ち那ぞや 方今 太平 日に無事 柄は儒術を用いて邱軻を崇む 安んぞ能く此れを以て上りて論列せん 願わくは辯口の懸河の如きを借らん 石鼓の歌は此に止む 嗚呼 我が意 其れ蹉跎たり |