| 題名： | 對酒閑吟贈同老者 |
| 作者： | 白居易 |
| 人生七十稀 我年幸過之 遠行將盡路 春夢欲覺時 家事口不問 世名心不思 老既不足歎 病亦不能治 扶持仰婢僕 將養信妻兒 飢飽進退食 寒暄加減衣 聲妓放鄭衛 裘馬脫輕肥 百事盡除去 尚餘酒與詩 興來吟一篇 吟罷酒一巵 不獨適情性 兼用扶衰羸 雲液灑六腑 陽和生四肢 於中我自樂 此外吾不知 寄問同老者 舍此將安歸 莫學蓬心叟 胸中殘是非 | |
| 英譯： |
Few men live to seventy;
Luckily I've gone beyond that.
I am almost at the end of a far journey,
About to waken from a spring dream.
I have no move questioning of family matters,
No thought in my heart of worldly fame.
Old age? It's not worth sighing over.
Sickness? That cannot be cured.
For support I look to maids and servants;
I entrust future cares to wife and child.
Food satisfies the hungry, warm clothes the cold.
The whore sings the lewd songs of Cheng and Wei,
A robust horse has no need
For even a light coverlet.
A hundred portents have gone
Leaving only poetry and wine.
Excitement comes as I sing a verse;
When the song ends, there's a jug of wine.
This not only pleases my nature
But further assists my failing body.
The cold liquid pours into my six organs;
Warmth arises in my four limbs.
I'm joyful among people, otherwise heedless.
I send this poem to the like-minded
Asking, if you reject it,
What you will offer in its place?
Don't imitate the stingy old man
Whose heart clings to notions of right and wrong!
Few men live to seventy, luckily I've gotten beyond that. Almost at the end of a distant journey, about to waken from a spring dream. No more questionings of family matters, in my heart no thoughts of worldly fame. Old? That's not worth sighing over. Sick? That can't be cured. I look for support to maids and servants, entrust for future care to wife and child. Food accords with hungry-full, clothes accord with cold-warm. Whore sings free those lewd sounds of Cheng and Wei, robust horse has no need of even light coverlets. The hundred things have gone, leaving but the poems and the wine. Excitement comes, I sing a verse; the song ends, a jug of wine. Not only does this please my nature it also assists my failing frame. The cloud liquid pours into my six organs, warmth arises in my four limbs. Self-joyous in the midst, beyond this I'm unaware. I send this poem to those old like me and ask; if you reject these, with what will you return? Don't emulate the stingy old man who still clings in his heart to the right and wrong. |
| 日譯： | 暫無日譯內容 |