| 題名： | 走馬川行奉送出師西征 |
| 作者： | 岑參 |
| 君不見走馬川行雪海邊， 平沙莽莽黃入天。 輪臺九月風夜吼， 一川碎石大如斗， 隨風滿地石亂走。 匈奴草黃馬正肥， 金山西見煙塵飛。 漢家大將西出師， 將軍金甲夜不脫。 半夜軍行戈相撥， 風頭如刀面如割。 馬毛帶雪汗氣蒸， 五花連錢旋作冰。 幕中草檄硯水凝， 虜騎聞之應膽懾。 料知短兵不敢接， 車師西門佇獻捷。 | |
| 英譯： |
Do you not see where they ride their horses across the river
And away to the lake of snow?
The flat sands stretch away on every side an endless yellow prospect merging with the sky;
Around Lun-t’ai in the ninth moon the wind rages at night,
The whole river (is full) of fragments of boulders as big as a peck measure
When the wind blows the whole river-bed is full of tumbling rocks.
The Hsiung-nu pastures are yellow, but their horses are fat.
To the west of the Gold Hill one sees thin clouds of dust;
The Chinese General leads his troops to the west
The commander cannot remove his armour all night long,
In the middle of the night the troops take the road, their weapons clanking at their sides.
The wind is as a knife as it cuts the face,
The snow lies on the horses' hides, their sweat rises like steam
The five flower $((trappings))$ and the coin metalwork are incrusted with icicles.
As you in your tent draft despatches the ink on the slab is frozen.
But the barbarian cavalry hear of your coming and fear fills their minds,
Can it be that their dirks dare not come to grips?
The (rest) of the army waits at the western gate for the news of your victory.
Look how swift to the snowy sea races Running-Horse River!— And sand, up from the desert, flies yellow into heaven. This Ninth-month night is blowing cold at Wheel Tower, And valleys, like peck measures, fill with the broken boulders That downward, headlong, follow the wind. ... In spite of grey grasses, Tartar horses are plump; West of the Hill of Gold, smoke and dust gather. O General of the Chinese troops, start your campaign! Keep your iron armour on all night long, Send your soldiers forward with a clattering of weapons! ... While the sharp wind's point cuts the face like a knife, And snowy sweat steams on the horses' backs, Freezing a pattern of five-flower coins, Your challenge from camp, from an inkstand of ice, Has chilled the barbarian chieftain's heart. You will have no more need of an actual battle!— We await the news of victory, here at the western pass! Do you not see the Running-Horse River flow Along the sea of snow And sand has yellowed sky and earth, high and low? In the ninth month at Wheel Tower winds howl at night, The River fills with broken stones fallen from the height, Which run riot with howling winds as if in flight. When grass turns, yellow, the plump Hunnish horses neigh, West of Mount Gold dusts rise, they're in battle array. Our general leads his army on his westward way. He keeps his iron armor on all the night long, Spears clang at midnight when his army march along, Their faces cut by the wind which blows sharp and strong. Both snow and sweat turn into steam on horse's mane, Which soon on horse's back turns into ice again. Ink freezes in the tent while he plans the campaign. On hearing this, the foemen should tremble with fear. Dare they cross their swords with us when our men are near? We'll await news of victory at the west gate here. |
| 日譯： | 暫無日譯內容 |