| 題名： | 春宮怨 |
| 作者： | 杜荀鶴 |
| 早被嬋娟誤， 欲妝臨鏡慵。 承恩不在貌， 教妾若爲容。 風暖鳥聲碎， 日高花影重。 年年越溪女， 相憶採芙蓉。 | |
| 英譯： |
EARLY I was bewitched by my own graces
Bot now (discarded) I sit at home listless in front of my mirror,
For the road to the imperial favour does not lie in beauty.
To have learnt all the wiles of a concubine how does it avail?
The wind is warm, birds twitter (in greater numbers),
The sun is high, and the shadows of the flowers are multiplied.
Year by year I find myself (passed over) like the women of the stream of Yüeh
Who dreamt of love as they plucked the hibiscus flower.
Knowing beauty my misfortune, I face my mirror with a sigh. To please a fastidious emperor, How shall I array myself? ... Birds flock and sing when the wind is warm, Flower-shadows climb when the sun is high— And year after year girls in the south Are picking hibiscus, dreaming of love! Knowing beauty my misfortune, I face my mirror with a sigh. To please a fastidious emperor, How shall I array myself? ... Birds flock and sing when the wind is warm, Flower-shadows climb when the sun is high— And year after year girls in the south Are picking hibiscus, dreaming of love! Long ago, ah! to betray me, Grace and prettiness were mine. Carelessly I now array me By the tedious mirror's shine. On my cheeks, not only! traces Bear I of the love you gave. Is it but for pretty faces That the title "wife'' you save? Now the winds are warmly blowing. Mating birds respond no more. High the sun, deep shadows throwing Where the flowers bloomed before. Yearly by the brooklet going, How they plucked in days of yore Lordly water-lilies growing, Country maidens yet deplore. Long ago, ah! to betray me, Grace and prettiness were mine. Carelessly I now array me By the tedious mirror's shine. On my cheeks, not only! traces Bear I of the love you gave. Is it but for pretty faces That the title "wife'' you save? Now the winds are warmly blowing. Mating birds respond no more. High the sun, deep shadows throwing Where the flowers bloomed before. Yearly by the brooklet going, How they plucked in days of yore Lordly water-lilies growing, Country maidens yet deplore. By my own beauty long have I been wronged! I tire when at the glass I deck my hair. If fairness courts not royal glance, wherefore Rouge my lips blooming, or shade my brows fair? Warm breezed scatter birds' songs to twitters, In the tall sun, thick heap the floral shades. Way south, the maidens yearly miss me yet As they pick fu-rong in my native glades. When I was young my loveliness led me astray. Now by my mirror I am weary of powder and paint. My looks no longer enjoy His Majesty’s favour And that makes me ask why I make up at all. The birds all twitter away in the warm breeze; When the sun is high the flowers cast heavy shadows. Year after year the women by the stream in Yue Think of me as they pick the lotus flowers. |
| 日譯： | 暫無日譯內容 |