<Header>
<Author: 杜甫>
<Title: 自京赴奉先縣詠懷五百字>
<Format: 格式不明>
<Year: 1985>
<BookName: SELECTED POEMS OF DU FU>
<Translator: Li Weijian>
<TranslatedTitle: Thoughts on the Way From the Capital to Fengxian>
<BookPage: 44-57>
<UsedPage: 14>
<Feature: 4>
<End Header>
<Poem>
杜陵有布衣，
老大意轉拙。
許身一何愚，
竊比稷與契。
居然成濩落，
白手甘契闊。
蓋棺事則已，
此志常覬豁。
窮年憂黎元，
歎息腸內熱。
取笑同學翁，
浩歌彌激烈。
非無江海志，
蕭灑送日月。
生逢堯舜君，
不忍便永訣。
當今廊廟具，
構廈豈云缺。
葵藿傾太陽，
物性固莫奪。
顧惟螻蟻輩，
但自求其穴。
胡爲慕大鯨，
輒擬偃溟渤。
以茲悟生理，
獨恥事干謁。
兀兀遂至今，
忍爲塵埃沒。
終媿巢與由，
未能易其節。
沈飲聊自適，
放歌頗愁絕。
歲暮百草零，
疾風高岡裂。
天衢陰崢嶸，
客子中夜發。
霜嚴衣帶斷，
指直不得結。
凌晨過驪山，
御榻在嵽嵲。
蚩尤塞寒空，
蹴蹋崖谷滑。
瑤池氣鬱律，
羽林相摩戛。
君臣留歡娛，
樂動殷樛嶱。
賜浴皆長纓，
與宴非短褐。
彤庭所分帛，
本自寒女出。
鞭撻其夫家，
聚斂貢城闕。
聖人筐篚恩，
實欲邦國活。
臣如忽至理，
君豈棄此物。
多士盈朝廷，
仁者宜戰慄。
況聞內金盤，
盡在衛霍室。
中堂舞神仙，
煙霧散玉質。
煖客貂鼠裘，
悲管逐清瑟。
勸客駝蹄羹，
霜橙壓香橘。
朱門酒肉臭，
路有凍死骨。
榮枯咫尺異，
惆悵難再述。
北轅就涇渭，
官渡又改轍。
羣冰從西下，
極目高崪兀。
疑是崆峒來，
恐觸天柱折。
河梁幸未坼，
枝撐聲窸窣。
行旅相攀援，
川廣不可越。
老妻寄異縣，
十口隔風雪。
誰能久不顧，
庶往共飢渴。
入門聞號咷，
幼子飢已卒。
吾寧舍一哀，
里巷亦嗚咽。
所媿爲人父，
無食致夭折。
豈知秋未登，
貧寠有蒼卒。
生常免租稅，
名不隸征伐。
撫迹猶酸辛，
平人固騷屑。
默思失業徒，
因念遠戍卒。
憂端齊終南，
澒洞不可掇。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
A humble scholar from Duling,
Grown stupid with age,
Fool enough to aspire
To be a prince's right hand!
Come to naught; yet unremitting,
Though my hair's turned white.
My will shall not change,
Till death ends all.
Throughout the year I worry about the people;
Heavy sighs bespeak a heavy heart.
Sometimes I burst into impassioned song,
Heedless of ridicule by crusted academics.
Not that I feel no yearning to be at large,
To watch sun and moon go by with a mind at ease;
But living under an emperor sage and noble,
I cannot bring myself to leave his service for ever.
Able ministers there are at court,
Pillars of state not lacking,
Even so, it's in the nature of the sunflower
To turn to the sun, no altering that.
And then I think of the ants
That are content with their holes.
Why envy the whale
Sailing in the vasty deep?
So I awake to the truths of life,
And disdain to seek favour from those in power.
I'd rather toil along,
Till I fall into dust.
To my shame I cannot be a hermit,
Cannot retract my allegiance.
I can only find comfort in drink,
And try to sing my sorrows away.
Late in the year all grass is sere,
Violent winds threaten to split the ridges asunder.
At midnight i set out from the capital,
Picking my way through streets now cold and sombre.
The frost is sharp, my girdle snaps,
And my fingers are too stiff to tie it.
At dawn I pass by Mount Li,
Where the emperor is making a sojourn.
Thick mist fills the frigid sky.
Down here: slippery rocks dangerous to tread.
High up: palaces veiled in vaporous gloom,
Imperial guards massed in proud array.
There the emperor and his courtiers. amuse themselves
With medley of music gloriously played.
Hot spring baths, sumptuous feastsㅡ
Such are for nobles only, not for common folk.
But the silks given away in token of imperial grace
Are from the looms of poor women
Whose husbands, thrashed into submission,
Had to offer their home products as tribute.
The emperor's bounty is intended to encourage
Loyal service to the country.
If this is not borne in mind,
Largesse becomes sheer waste.
Let those who crowd the court ponder:
Men of virtue would not be without tremors.
I hear that the treasures of the imperial house
Have passed into the possession of powerful families,
That in the banquet halls of these nobles
Fairies dance in a haze of incense,
While honoured guests in mink and sable
Wallow in the rapturous music of pipes and zither,
Not forgetting to do justice to
Camel's knuckles and all.
Behind vermilion portals meat is left to rot,
While out in the streets starving people are frozen to death!
Prosperity and decay, so distant, yet so near:
Distressing--what more need be said?
Taking a northbound carriage,
I reach the river---
But no ferry!
Huge masses of floating ice descending,
It seems the primeval mounts have shattered-an awesome sight!
Lucky the bridge remains,
Though dangerously creaking.
Fellow travellers hold on to each other,
Fearful of failure to make the far bank.
My wife and children live in Fengxian,
A family of ten separated by wind and snow.
Could one be unmindful of their fate?
One would rather suffer hunger and thirst together with them.
At last I arrive home, only to hear cries of woe.
My youngest son is dead, alas! dead from starvation!
There's no repressing my grief,
Not even the neighbours could help weeping.
That I, the father, should see him die--
For lack of food-before his time!
The harvest is in,
Yet the poor are direly stricken.
I, exempt from taxation and military service,
Even I cannot avert disaster!
How sorely, then, are the common folk afflicted!
Think of the vagrants, the frontier guards.
My anxiety swells, rising to tremendous heights,
Boundless, orderless, not to be controlled.
<End Translation>