双桨敲冰,低篷护冷,扁舟晓渡西泠。
回首吴山,微茫遥带重城。
堤边几树垂杨柳,早嫩黄、摇动春情。
问孤鸿,何处飞来,共唤飘零。
轻帆初落沙洲暝,渐潮痕雨渍,面色风皴。
旅思羁愁,偏能老大行人。
姮娥不管征途苦,甚夜深、尽照孤衾。
想玉楼,犹凭栏干,为我销凝。
双桨敲冰,低篷护冷,扁舟晓渡西泠。
回首吴山,微茫遥带重城。
堤边几树垂杨柳,早嫩黄、摇动春情。
问孤鸿,何处飞来,共唤飘零。
轻帆初落沙洲暝,渐潮痕雨渍,面色风皴。
旅思羁愁,偏能老大行人。
姮娥不管征途苦,甚夜深、尽照孤衾。
想玉楼,犹凭栏干,为我销凝。
双桨敲开冰面,低矮的船篷遮挡寒冷,扁舟在拂晓渡过西泠。
回首望吴山,在微茫中遥遥环绕着重重城郭。
堤边几株垂杨柳,早已抽出嫩黄,摇动着春情。
试问孤鸿,你从何处飞来,与我同唤飘零?
轻帆初落,沙洲已暮,潮痕渐被雨渍,面容被风皴皱。
旅思与羁愁,偏偏最能催老行路之人。
嫦娥不顾征途艰苦,为何夜深时,尽照着我这孤寂的衾被?
想那玉楼中人,此刻犹自凭栏,正为我凝神销魂。
Twin oars chip ice, low awning guards against the cold, my skiff crosses West Ling at dawn.
Looking back at Wu hills, faintly they gird the distant town.
A few willow trees by the dike, their early tender yellow sways with spring's passion grown.
I ask the lone wild goose: where do you fly from, sharing this call to drift alone?
Light sail first drops on sandbar as dusk falls, tide marks stained by rain, face weathered by wind's scrawl.
Traveler's thoughts, a stranger's sorrow, age a wanderer beyond his call.
The moon goddess cares not for the hardship of the road, shining deep into night on my lonely quilt, standing tall.
I imagine in the jade tower, she still leans on the rail, for me, her spirit in thrall.
王亿之,宋末女词人,生平不详。
羁旅与闺思的双向书写,构成情感认同的遥远共振。
描绘羁旅途中孤舟晓渡、春寒料峭的景色,抒发漂泊无依的愁思与对远方亲人的怀念。
飘零 · 旅思 · 羁愁 · 征途 · 栏干
东山书院编辑整理