| 題名： | 桃源行 |
| 作者： | 王維 |
| 漁舟逐水愛山春， 兩岸桃花夾古津。 坐看紅樹不知遠， 行盡青溪不見人。 山口潛行始隈隩， 山開曠望旋平陸。 遙看一處攢雲樹， 近入千家散花竹。 樵客初傳漢姓名， 居人未改秦衣服。 居人共住武陵源， 還從物外起田園。 月明松下房櫳靜， 日出雲中雞犬喧。 驚聞俗客爭來集， 競引還家問都邑。 平明閭巷掃花開， 薄暮漁樵乘水入。 初因避地去人間， 及至成仙遂不還。 峽裏誰知有人事， 世中遙望空雲山。 不疑靈境難聞見， 塵心未盡思鄉縣。 出洞無論隔山水， 辭家終擬長游衍。 自謂經過舊不迷， 安知峰壑今來變。 當時只記入山深， 青溪幾度到雲林。 春來遍是桃花水， 不辨仙源何處尋。 | |
| 英譯： |
A fisherman is drifting, enjoying the spring mountains,
And the peach-trees on both banks lead him to an ancient source.
Watching the fresh-coloured trees, he never thinks of distance
Till he comes to the end of the blue stream and suddenly—strange men!
It's a cave—with a mouth so narrow that he has to crawl through;
But then it opens wide again on a broad and level path—
And far beyond he faces clouds crowning a reach of trees,
And thousands of houses shadowed round with flowers and bamboos....
Woodsmen tell him their names in the ancient speech of Han;
And clothes of the Ch'in Dynasty are worn by all these people
Living on the uplands, above the Wu-ling River,
On farms and in gardens that are like a world apart,
Their dwellings at peace under pines in the clear moon,
Until sunrise fills the low sky with crowing and barking.
... At news of a stranger the people all assemble,
And each of them invites him home and asks him where he was born.
Alleys and paths are cleared for him of petals in the morning,
And fishermen and farmers bring him their loads at dusk....
They had left the world long ago, they had come here seeking refuge;
They have lived like angels ever since, blessedly far away,
No one in the cave knowing anything outside,
Outsiders viewing only empty mountains and thick clouds.
... The fisherman, unaware of his great good fortune,
Begins to think of country, of home, of worldly ties,
Finds his way out of the cave again, past mountains and past rivers,
Intending some time to return, when he has told his kin.
He studies every step he takes, fixes it well in mind,
And forgets that cliffs and peaks may vary their appearance.
... It is certain that to enter through the deepness of the mountain,
A green river leads you, into a misty wood.
But now, with spring-floods everywhere and floating peach-petals—
Which is the way to go, to find that hidden source?
The fisher rowed his boat along the stream, He loved the mountains clad in spring. On either bank peach blossoms shone in glory, To the old ford new life to bring. The flaming trees he watched, and entranced, Knew not how far he was from home, Nor met a single soul when to the end Of the blue stream he soon was come. All through a narrow cavern then he took At first his winding, lonely way; Anon the cliffs parted to show a plain That boundless stretched in shining day. He saw a distant grove of giant trees That seemed to form a hanging cloud; Nearer he found a thousand homesteads spread That flowers and bamboos seemed to shroud. The fisher gave the names of dynasties, With Han the oldest to begin. He found the dwellers dressed in garments quaint, For they still kept the style of Qin. There in the plain of Wuling they sojourned T'escape the violence of the age, Then carved from out a raging, boisterous world A calm secluded heritage. The moon serenely lapped the pines and houses In silent peaceful rest at night. At sunrise, fowls and dogs made merry din All through the morning hazes bright. In sweet surprise, the dwellers hastened all To hail and meet an earthly guest, And each and all invited him to home, Of news from old homelands in quest. At dawn, from out the fallen flowers was swept A path or walk to every home, To lead the stream-borne fisher in at dusk, Their welcome guest once to become. They said their forebears left the human world To shun the troubles of the time, And from here they returned not to their homes For they found here a fairy clime. Who of this valley ever knew of grief That always racked the human world? Though to the people outside, it was but A distant hill in vapours furled. The fisher feared not such a wonder land Elusive be to trace or find, And he began to miss his native town Since worldly thoughts still held his mind. Yet once outside this happy land, he soon Left home again, for longer stay Within that land, though mountains and waters deep All seemed to hide the secret way. He thought he could retrace the ancient path Along the streams and every strand. He knew not that the peaks and cliffs had changed Since last he visited the land. He only fancied that he had been deep In hills and crags below aid above, And that the mazy windings of the stream Would lead to that mist-veiled grove. Spring came yearly to fill the streams with blossoms And flooding them from shore to shore; But the fairy land nestled at their source Was ne'er to be approached more. |
| 日譯： | 暫無日譯內容 |