| 題名： | 達哉樂天行 |
| 作者： | 白居易 |
| 達哉達哉白樂天 分司東都十三年 七旬纔滿冠已挂 半祿未及車先懸 或伴遊客春行樂 或隨山僧夜坐禪 二年忘卻問家事 門庭多草廚少煙 庖童朝告鹽米盡 侍婢暮訴衣裳穿 妻孥不悅甥姪悶 而我醉臥方陶然 起來與爾晝生計 薄產處置有後先 先賣南坊十畝園 次賣東郭五頃田 然後兼賣所居宅 髣髴獲緍二三千 半與爾充衣食費 半與吾供酒肉錢 吾今已年七十一 眼昏鬚白頭風眩 但恐此錢用不盡 即先朝露歸夜泉 未歸且住亦不惡 飢餐樂飲安穩眠 死生無可無不可 達哉達哉白樂天 | |
| 英譯： |
Yes, you know the underlying principles, Po Lo-t’ien!
You were an official in the capital for thirteen years;
From then until seventy you've lived in retirement
Receiving half-salary.
You may accompany guests on spring excursions
Or sit all night with mountain priests
Plunged in buddhist meditation.
For two years you have wholly forgotten
Even to enquire about family matters.
For many weeks those by your gate and courtyard
Have seen little smoke coming from your kitchen.
The kitchen servant tells you in the morning
That salt and rice are gone.
The waiting maid complains at evening
That clothes are in tatters.
Wife and child are displeased,
Nephews and nieces are unhappy.
As for myself,
I lie down in drunken oblivion
Or rise with you to plan for necessary action:
First to sell the ten hectares
Of our gardens in South Ward;
Next to sell the seventy or eighty acres
Of our fields in the eastern suburbs;
Finally, to sell the house itself.
We'll get two or three thousand coins in cash,
Half to you for food and expenses,
Half to me for wine and meat.
Now I'm seventy-one, with blurred eyesight,
White hair, and plagued with dizziness.
I fear I'll not spend this money but with morning's dew
Will revert to the springs of endless night.
It's not really bad, however, this still living on.
When hungry, there's the joy of eating,
When sleepy, there's the pleasure of sleep.
Life and death, one can really do nothing about it.
Yes, you know the underlying principles, Po Lo-t’ien!
You know, yes you know the underlying principles, Po Lo-t'ien! An official in the Eastern Capital for thirteen years, till seventy you've served, retiring on half-salary. You may accompany guests on spring pleasures, you may sit in Zen nights with mountain priests. For two years you've totally forgotten to ask about family things, many weeds by gate and courtyard, little smoke from the kitchen. The kitchen servant tells you in the morning the salt and rice are gone, the waiting maid complains in the evening that the clothes are torn. Wife and child displeased, nephews nieces sad, and me? Drunken lying down oblivious. Getting up to make a plan with you (my wife) on how to dispose of our properties in proper order: First sell ten hectares, of our gardens in South Ward, next sell seventy or eighty acres of our fields in the eastern suburbs. Later sell the house too, altogether we'll get several thousands. Half to you for food clothes expenses, half to me for wine meat money. I'm now seventy-one, eyes muddled, hair white, winds swirling in my head. I fear this money I'll not use up, but with morning's dew will have reverted to the springs of (endless) night. Not bad, still not reverting but living on— hungry there is the joy of eating, sleeping there is the good sleep. Dead or alive that's just one or the other— Yes you know the underlying principles Po Lo-t'ien! Yes, you know the underlying principles, Po Lo-t’ien! You were an official in the capital for thirteen years; From then until seventy you've lived in retirement Receiving half-salary. You may accompany guests on spring excursions Or sit all night with mountain priests Plunged in buddhist meditation. For two years you have wholly forgotten Even to enquire about family matters. For many weeks those by your gate and courtyard Have seen little smoke coming from your kitchen. The kitchen servant tells you in the morning That salt and rice are gone. The waiting maid complains at evening That clothes are in tatters. Wife and child are displeased, Nephews and nieces are unhappy. As for myself, I lie down in drunken oblivion Or rise with you to plan for necessary action: First to sell the ten hectares Of our gardens in South Ward; Next to sell the seventy or eighty acres Of our fields in the eastern suburbs; Finally, to sell the house itself. We'll get two or three thousand coins in cash, Half to you for food and expenses, Half to me for wine and meat. Now I'm seventy-one, with blurred eyesight, White hair, and plagued with dizziness. I fear I'll not spend this money but with morning's dew Will revert to the springs of endless night. It's not really bad, however, this still living on. When hungry, there's the joy of eating, When sleepy, there's the pleasure of sleep. Life and death, one can really do nothing about it. Yes, you know the underlying principles, Po Lo-t’ien! You know, yes you know the underlying principles, Po Lo-t'ien! An official in the Eastern Capital for thirteen years, till seventy you've served, retiring on half-salary. You may accompany guests on spring pleasures, you may sit in Zen nights with mountain priests. For two years you've totally forgotten to ask about family things, many weeds by gate and courtyard, little smoke from the kitchen. The kitchen servant tells you in the morning the salt and rice are gone, the waiting maid complains in the evening that the clothes are torn. Wife and child displeased, nephews nieces sad, and me? Drunken lying down oblivious. Getting up to make a plan with you (my wife) on how to dispose of our properties in proper order: First sell ten hectares, of our gardens in South Ward, next sell seventy or eighty acres of our fields in the eastern suburbs. Later sell the house too, altogether we'll get several thousands. Half to you for food clothes expenses, half to me for wine meat money. I'm now seventy-one, eyes muddled, hair white, winds swirling in my head. I fear this money I'll not use up, but with morning's dew will have reverted to the springs of (endless) night. Not bad, still not reverting but living on— hungry there is the joy of eating, sleeping there is the good sleep. Dead or alive that's just one or the other— Yes you know the underlying principles Po Lo-t'ien! |
| 日譯： | 暫無日譯內容 |