相如当日,曾奏凌云赋。
落笔纵横妙风雨。
记扬鞭辇路,同醉金明,穷胜赏,不管重城已暮。
旧游如梦觉,零落朋侪,遗墨淋漓尚如故。
况神洲北望,今已丘墟,伤白璧、久埋黄土。
但空似、灵光岿然存,怅朗月清风,更无玄度。
相如当日,曾奏凌云赋。
落笔纵横妙风雨。
记扬鞭辇路,同醉金明,穷胜赏,不管重城已暮。
旧游如梦觉,零落朋侪,遗墨淋漓尚如故。
况神洲北望,今已丘墟,伤白璧、久埋黄土。
但空似、灵光岿然存,怅朗月清风,更无玄度。
司马相如当年,曾献上凌云之赋。
落笔纵横,精妙如风雨挥洒。
记得我们并马驰骋在御道,同醉于金明池畔,
尽情游赏胜景,哪管重重城门已暮色四合。
旧日同游恍如一梦醒来,友人零落四散,
唯有他淋漓的墨迹依然如故,鲜活生动。
何况北望中原神州,如今已成丘墟,
悲伤那白璧般的人才,久已埋没于黄土。
但空自像鲁灵光殿般岿然独存,
怅惘那朗月清风之境,再无玄度这样的知己相伴。
Sima Xiangru once, with soaring prose, made his name.
His brush swept like wind and rain, a master's claim.
We raced our steeds by palace roads, drunk in Jinming's light,
Chasing splendors till dusk fell, ignoring the city's night.
Old journeys wake like dreams; friends scattered, lost and few,
Yet his dashing ink remains vibrant, vivid, true.
Gazing north to the lost heartland, now ruins and dust,
I mourn the buried jade, long sunk in the yellow crust.
Only his spirit stands, like a lone temple, grand and high,
But where's the moonlit breeze, and the friend who shared the sky?
曾纡睹友遗墨,怀才士与故国。
墨迹存续是对文化认同沦陷的无声抵抗。
追忆昔日同游胜景,感怀故友零落、故国丘墟,唯存遗墨与清风明月相伴。
凌云赋 · 金明 · 灵光 · 玄度
东山书院编辑整理