| 題名： | 韓碑 |
| 作者： | 李商隱 |
| 元和天子神武姿， 彼何人哉軒與羲。 誓將上雪列聖恥， 坐法宮中朝四夷。 淮西有賊五十載， 封狼生貙貙生羆。 不據山河據平地， 長戈利矛日可麾。 帝得聖相相曰度， 賊斫不死神扶持。 腰懸相印作都統， 陰風慘澹天王旗。 愬武古通作牙爪， 儀曹外郎載筆隨。 行軍司馬智且勇， 十四萬衆猶虎貔。 入蔡縛賊獻太廟， 功無與讓恩不訾。 帝曰汝度功第一， 汝從事愈宜爲辭。 愈拜稽首蹈且舞， 金石刻畫臣能爲。 古者世稱大手筆， 此事不繫于職司。 當仁自古有不讓， 言訖屢頷天子頤。 公退齋戒坐小閣， 濡染大筆何淋漓。 點竄堯典舜典字， 塗改清廟生民詩。 文成破體書在紙， 清晨再拜鋪丹墀。 表曰臣愈昧死上， 詠神聖功書之碑。 碑高三丈字如斗， 負以靈鼇蟠以螭。 句奇語重喻者少， 讒之天子言其私。 長繩百尺拽碑倒， 麤砂大石相磨治。 公之斯文若元氣， 先時已入人肝脾。 湯盤孔鼎有述作， 今無其器存其辭。 嗚呼聖皇及聖相， 相與烜赫流淳熙。 公之斯文不示後， 曷與三五相攀追。 願書萬本誦萬過， 口角流沫右手胝。 傳之七十有二代， 以爲封禪玉檢明堂基。 | |
| 英譯： |
IN the Yüan-ho period Hsien Tsung had the endowments of a divine warrior:
What a man he was. Huang Ti and Fu Hsi (can only be compared with him).
He swore he would wipe out the disgrace of his ancestors
Sitting in his palace of justice he gave audience to the four barbarians from all the four quarters.
To the west of the Huai River there had been brigands for fifty years
Boundary wolves had bred lynxes, and lynxes, bears.
When the rebels were not in possession of the hills and villages they were in possession of the plains;
Their long spears and sharp lances, they brandished every day.
The Emperor procured a wise minister whose name was Tu
The brigands tried to assassinate him, but he did not die for the heavens supported him;
From his girdle hung his seals of office and he was made Com-mander-in-Chief.
(In those days) a dark wind blew grimly upon the imperial banners.
The Generals Su, Wu, Ku and T'ung were made his teeth and claws;
Secretaries with their pens were in his train,
Field officers also with skill (to plan) and bravery (to perform);
One hundred and forty thousand soldiers like tigers and leopards
They entered Ts'ai and tied up the rebel chief and later exhibited him at the imperial ancestral temple.
Their merit was incomparable; the imperial bounty was limitless
The Emperor said "You, Tu, are meritorious beyond all and that follower of yours, Yü, ought to make a record of events.
Yü made obeisance, bowed his head and danced to show his gratification, (and said)－
"In engraving on metal and stone and in carving and painting your servant is proficient;
From of old the title of great calligraphist has not been bestowed by virtue of official position
And those who were upright from of old never refused (to use the pen)."
When he had finished speaking the Imperial head was frequently nodded in agreement,
He went back and retired to sit in a small room to purify himself
Then moistening and drying his long brushes,
How he dripped and splashed!
In blobs and strokes (he drew) characters in the style of the canon of Yao and the canon of Shun;
Then he erased and altered, following the style of the "Pure Temple,"
And of the "Light of the People."
When the essay was complete he wrote it on paper in the cursive style;
Early in the morning he again bowed and spread it on the purple terrace.
He spoke out "I your subject greatly daring submit this
The song of your sacred merits, please have it written on stone"
The tablet was thirty feet high and the characters as big as ladles
It was set on the back of a spiritual tortoise round which the dragons coiled;
It was full of strange phraseology and obscure references that few could understand.
(But) the author was slandered to the Emperor on the grounds that he was biased.
With ropes one hundred feet long they pulled down the tablet
With coarse granite and big rocks they defaced and rubbed it;
Yet the text had a lively vitality
And before it was defaced it had already impressed itself on the minds of men.
Like the T'ang tub and K'ung tripod its history has been recorded;
To-day these objects do not exist but their inscriptions have been preserved.
Alas! for the wise king and the sage minister;
Yet these two have shared their own fame and glory with the ebb and flow of the country's prosperity.
Yet if this tablet's contents do not pass down to posterity
I am eager with the help of two or three like-minded with myself to reach up and rescue the inscriptions from oblivion.
I would wish to write ten thousand copies and to recite it ten thousand times,
Until the corners of my mouth dripped with saliva
And my right wrist was callous,
And to hand it down for seventy-two generations.
I would have it used at the fêng shan sacrifice as a jade strip or be laid in the foundations of the Bright Hall.
The Son of Heaven in Yüan-ho times was martial as a god And might be likened only to the Emperors Hsüan and Hsi. He took an oath to reassert the glory of the empire, And tribute was brought to his palace from all four quarters. Western Huai for fifty years had been a bandit country, Wolves becoming lynxes, lynxes becoming bears. They assailed the mountains and rivers, rising from the plains, With their long spears and sharp lances aimed at the Sun. But the Emperor had a wise premier, by the name of Tu, Who, guarded by spirits against assassination, Hung at his girdle the seal of state, and accepted chief command, While these savage winds were harrying the flags of the Ruler of Heaven. Generals Suo, Wu, Ku, and T'ung became his paws and claws; Civil and military experts brought their writing-brushes, And his recording adviser was wise and resolute. A hundred and forty thousand soldiers, fighting like lions and tigers, Captured the bandit chieftains for the Imperial Temple. So complete a victory was a supreme event; And the Emperor said: "To you, Tu, should go the highest honour, And your secretary, Yü, should write a record of it." When Yü had bowed his head, he leapt and danced, saying: "Historical writings on stone and metal are my especial art; And, since I know the finest brush-work of the old masters, My duty in this instance is more than merely official, And I should be at fault if I modestly declined." The Emperor, on hearing this, nodded many times. And Yü retired and fasted and, in a narrow work-room, His great brush thick with ink as with drops of rain, Chose characters like those in the Canons of Yao and Hsun, And a style as in the ancient poems Ch'ing-miao and Shêng-min, And soon the description was ready, on a sheet of paper. In the morning he laid it, with a bow, on the purple stairs. He memorialized the throne: " I, unworthy, Have dared to record this exploit, for a monument." The tablet was thirty feet high, the characters large as dippers; It was set on a sacred tortoise, its columns flanked with drag-ons ... The phrases were strange with deep words that few could under-stand; And jealousy entered and malice and reached the Emperor— So that a rope a hundred feet long pulled the tablet down And coarse sand and small stones ground away its face. But literature endures, like the universal spirit, And its breath becomes a part of the vitals of all men. The T'ang plate, the Confucian tripod, are eternal things, Not because of their forms, but because of their inscriptions.... Sagacious is our sovereign and wise his minister, And high their successes and prosperous their reign; But unless it be recorded by a writing such as this, How may they hope to rival the three and five good rulers? I wish I could write ten thousand copies to read ten thousand times, Till spittle ran from my lips and calluses hardened my fingers, And still could hand them down, through seventy-two generations, As corner-stones for Rooms of Great Deeds on the Sacred Moun-tains. Our Emp'ror of Yuanho, O see, To whom could he compared be, So gallant and God-like as he? – None but ancient Titans like Xuan and Xi. He pledged to wipe off every shame of his forefathers, Throned in court for envoys from all quarterst. Huaixi was a rebels' den for fifty years. Where wolves bred lynxes and lynxes bears. They seized not rivers not mountains, But open plains instead; With swords long and spears sharpened, They could hurl the sun back. But the Emperor had a premier called Du – a sage, Who had survived a rebel's knife with God's grace. Premier's seal on his girdle hanging, He too held field command; Imperial banners, awe-inspiring, Fluttered over a grim land. Su, Wu, Gu Tong aided as a pair of pincers that crushes; Secretary of Rites followed with his writing brushes. His adviser and aide-de-camp, A man of wisdom and valour; His hundred-forty thousand strong, All fought like a panther. After a raid on Cai, the rebels' chief was fettered, To the Ancestral Temple he was brought and offered, Du's feats of arms were as matchless As the Emperor's grace was boundless! His Majesty declared: "Du, you rank first in merits. Let your aid Yu sing your exploits." Yu bowed deep, kotowed and danced in court rites: "Panegyrics on stone or metal I could write. For ages dubbed as magnum opus, They belong to no official onus. As the age-old proverb decrees: I 'shirk no great task if need be'." Upon this, His Majesty Nodded assent repeatedly. Yu retired, fasted and bathed, And in a small sanctum he sate. His big brush ink-soaked, How eloquently he wrote! He mended and revised With Annuals of Yao and Shun as norm; He arduously aspired To the Book of Songs to conform. Now the writing complete In a freer script he wrote on a sheet. At sunrise, on the vermilion court steps Bowing and kneeling he had it spread. To His Majesty reported he: "Your servant Yu venture thus to speak." The tribute to the sacred feats Was now inscribed on a stele. A monument thirty feet tall, Each word was as big as a bowl. With dragon designs engirdled, It was supported by a stone turtle. So solemn and wondrous was the wording That few ever got its full meaning. Slanders gained the Emperor's ear: "For foul intent Yu had been unfair." With ropes hundred feet long, Down the stele was tumbled; Rough sand on huge stone milling along, The words were all crumbled. But Yu's writing, Like the breath of life, cosmo-old, Had permeated men's heart and soul. The Tang Tub and Kong Tripod had mottoes inscribed; Though the vessels are gone, the words have survived. Alas, the Emperor and his Premier, Both able and virtuous, Their fame would jointly endure – Pure, mighty and illustrious. Should this work of Yu's be lost hereafter, How could they vie in splendors With the Five or Three Emperors? Fain would I copy it thousand and one times, Till calluses on my right hand grow; Fain would I chime it just as oft times, Till spit from my mouth began to flow. May the stele with its inscriptions Be handed down to seventy-two generations, As the Jade Label, as a cornerstone we dedicate To the Grand Hall of the State! |
| 日譯： | 暫無日譯內容 |