| 題名： | 夜宴左氏莊 |
| 作者： | 杜甫 |
| 風林纖月落， 衣露淨琴張。 暗水流花徑， 春星帶草堂。 檢書燒燭短， 看劍引杯長。 詩罷聞吳詠， 扁舟意不忘。 | |
| 英譯： |
The wind scarce flutters through the leaves,
The young moon hath already gone,
And kind and cool the dews descend:
The lute-strings wake for night alone.
In shadow lapse the twinkling streams,
The lilied marge their wave caress;
And the sheer constellations sway
O'er soundless gulfs of nothingness.
$(What cadence charms the poet's ear!)$
$(What fire-fly fancies round him swarm!)$
He dreads the lantern lights may fail
Long ere his thoughts have taken form.
Now gallants tap their two-edged swords,
$(And pride and passion swell amain;)$
$(Like red stars flashing through the night)$
The circling wine-cups brim again.
There steals the old sad air of Ou—
Each calls his latest song to mind;
Then white sails taper down the stream,
While lingering thoughts still look behind.
The windy forest is checkered By the light of the setting, Waning moon. I tune the lute, Its strings are moist with dew. The brook flows in the darkness Below the flower path. The thatched Roof is crowned with constellations. As we write the candles burn short. Our wits grow sharp as swords while The wine goes round. When the poem Contest is ended, someone Sings a song of the South. And I think of my little boat, And long to be on my way. Toward the windy trees the slim new moon has set, Tuning her heart, the zither player's robe with dews is wet. The dark stream babbles through the blooming banks with damps, The spring stars light up the cot, vying with the lamps. Candles burn short, as we feast our eyes on rare books, And drink deep, admiring the sword so splendid, it looks. After rhyming, wafts to ears the Wu dialect song, Which brings me back to boating there someday bygone. A crescent moon has set behind the windy forest outside, an untouched lute grows wet with dew unseen, gurgling, the little creek winds among the flowers over the thatched roof thousands of spring stars We look up words in books by the candles' shrinking light we sip our cups and praise our host's ancestral sword our poems done, we chant them, using the Wu dialect I will remember best the mention of Fan Li's boat. |
| 日譯： | 暫無日譯內容 |