<Header>
<Author: 白居易>
<Title: 海漫漫>
<Format: 樂府詩>
<Year: 1919>
<BookName: Translation from the Chinese>
<Translator: Arthur Waley>
<TranslatedTitle: Magic>
<BookPage: 182>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 1, 4>
<End Header>
<Poem>
海漫漫，
直下無底傍無邊。
雲濤煙浪最深處，
人傳中有三神山。
山上多生不死藥，
服之羽化為天仙。
秦皇漢武信此語，
方士年年采藥去。
蓬萊今古但聞名，
煙水茫茫無覓處。
海漫漫，
風浩浩。
眼穿不見蓬萊島，
不見蓬萊不敢歸。
童男丱女舟中老，
徐福文成多誑誕。
上元太一虛祈禱，
君看驪山頂上茂陵頭。
畢竟悲風吹蔓草，
何況玄元聖祖五千言。
不言藥，
不言仙，
不言白日升青天。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
Boundless, the great sea.
Straight down,—no bottom: sideways,—no border.
Of cloudy waves and misty billows down in the uttermost depths
Men have fabled, in the midst there stand three sacred hills.
On the hills, thick growing,—herbs that banish Death.
Wings grow on those who eat them and they turn into heavenly "hsien".
The Lord of Ch'in' and Wu of Han believed in these stories:
And magic-workers year by year were sent to gather the herbs.
The Blessed Islands, now and of old, what but an empty tale?
The misty waters spread before them and they knew not where to seek.
Boundless, the great sea.
Dauntless, the mighty wind.
Their eyes search but cannot see the shores of the Blessed Islands.
They cannot find the Blessed Isles and yet they dare not return:
Youths and maidens that began the quest grew grey on board the boat.
They found that the writings of Hsu Fü were all boasts and lies:
To the Lofty Principle and Great Unity in vain they raised their prayers.
Do you not see
The graves on the top of Black Horse Hill and the tombs at Mo-ling?"
What is left but the sighing wind blowing in the tangled grasses?
Yes, and what is more,
The Dark and Primal Master of Sages in his fve thousand words
Never spoke of herbs,
Never spoke of "hsien",
Nor spoke of soaring in broad daylight up to the blue heaven.
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
Boundless, the great sea.
Straight down,—no bottom: sideways,—no border.
Of cloudy waves and misty billows down in the uttermost depths
Men have fabled, in the midst there stand three sacred hills.
On the hills, thick growing,—herbs that banish Death.
Wings grow on those who eat them and they turn into heavenly "hsien".
The Lord of Ch'in' and Wu of Han believed in these stories:
And magic-workers year by year were sent to gather the herbs.
The Blessed Islands, now and of old, what but an empty tale?
The misty waters spread before them and they knew not where to seek.
Boundless, the great sea.
Dauntless, the mighty wind.
Their eyes search but cannot see the shores of the Blessed Islands.
They cannot find the Blessed Isles and yet they dare not return:
Youths and maidens that began the quest grew grey on board the boat.
They found that the writings of Hsu Fü were all boasts and lies:
To the Lofty Principle and Great Unity in vain they raised their prayers.
Do you not see The graves on the top of Black Horse Hill and the tombs at Mo-ling?"
What is left but the sighing wind blowing in the tangled grasses?
Yes, and what is more, The Dark and Primal Master of Sages in his fve thousand words
Never spoke of herbs,
Never spoke of "hsien",
Nor spoke of soaring in broad daylight up to the blue heaven.
<End Formatted Translation>