| 題名： | 白帝城懷古 |
| 作者： | 陳子昂 |
| 日落滄江晚， 停橈問土風。 城臨巴子國， 臺沒漢王宮。 荒服仍周甸， 深山尚禹功。 巖懸青壁斷， 地險碧流通。 古木生雲際， 孤帆出霧中。 川途去無限， 客思坐何窮。 | |
| 英譯： |
The sun is sinking. Evening draws across the boiling stream.
So now we anchor to inquire what customs here be-long.
This town is near to where of old the Pa-Tze kingdom lay.
Their Tower is fallen; swallowed up the palace of Han Wang.
This rustic garb yet pointeth to the confines of the Chou.
These endless hills may still appear the task of Yü the Strong.
Yon crags are hung on walls of green sheer up into the sky.
The limpid current blindly raves those deadly rocks among.
Those ancient trees would seem to be born high amid the clouds.
The skiff returning merges forth whence misty fog banks throng.
The river's course goes ever down, and far beyond our ken.
And aye as far my thoughts of home are swiftly borne along.
The sun is sinking. Evening draws across the boiling stream. So now we anchor to inquire what customs here be-long. This town is near to where of old the Pa-Tze kingdom lay. Their Tower is fallen; swallowed up the palace of Han Wang. This rustic garb yet pointeth to the confines of the Chou. These endless hills may still appear the task of Yü the Strong. Yon crags are hung on walls of green sheer up into the sky. The limpid current blindly raves those deadly rocks among. Those ancient trees would seem to be born high amid the clouds. The skiff returning merges forth whence misty fog banks throng. The river's course goes ever down, and far beyond our ken. And aye as far my thoughts of home are swiftly borne along. The sun is setting, it's evening on the Big River. Stopping the oars, I inquire about the local atmosphere. The city looks down on the Viscount of Pa's land, The King of Han's palace has vanished from the terrace. This land, though distant and wild, belonged to the royal domain of Chou; The mountains, forbidding and deep, can still be approached through the merit of Yü. Precipices hang, green walls break off; The terrain is difficult but the jade-green river comes through. Ancient trees grow to the edge of the clouds, The home-bound sail pokes through the mist. The river route goes on without limit, The traveler's thoughts linger on without end. |
| 日譯： | 暫無日譯內容 |