对黄花犹自满庭开,那恨过重阳。
凭阑干醉袖,依依晚日,飘动寒香。
自叹平生豪纵,歌笑几千场。
白发欺人早,多似清霜。
谁信心情都懒,但禅龛道室,黄卷僧床。
把偎红调粉,抛掷向他芳。
□唤汝、东山归去,正灯明、松户竹篱旁。
关门睡,尽教人道,痴钝何妨。
对黄花犹自满庭开,那恨过重阳。
凭阑干醉袖,依依晚日,飘动寒香。
自叹平生豪纵,歌笑几千场。
白发欺人早,多似清霜。
谁信心情都懒,但禅龛道室,黄卷僧床。
把偎红调粉,抛掷向他芳。
□唤汝、东山归去,正灯明、松户竹篱旁。
关门睡,尽教人道,痴钝何妨。
面对黄花犹自开满庭院,哪还会怨恨重阳已过。
凭倚栏杆,醉袖垂垂,依恋着晚照,飘动清寒幽香。
自叹平生豪放不羁,高歌欢笑几千场。
白发欺人来得早,多似清霜。
谁信我如今心情全然懒散,只安于禅龛道室,黄卷与僧床。
把那些偎红倚翠的旧事,尽数抛掷给别的芬芳。
唤你一同归隐东山去,正是灯火明亮,松户竹篱旁。
关上门酣睡,任凭人道,痴钝又何妨。
Facing chrysanthemums that still the courtyard fill,
What grudge for Double Ninth now passed? I lean
On rails, my drunken sleeves, where lingering sunbeams spill,
And waft the cold fragrance across the scene.
I sigh for my wild, proud life of yore,
Thousands of rounds of song and laughter's roar.
White hair deceives men, coming soon—
So many strands like pure frost at noon.
Who'd believe my mood is wholly slack?
Only by shrine and cell, with sutras spread
On monkish bed.
I cast away the rouge, the amorous track,
Flinging it all to other blooms instead.
I call to you: return to Eastern Hill,
Where lamps are bright, by pine door, bamboo fence.
Shut the door, sleep your fill;
Let all men say what they will—
What harm in dense
And dull indifference?
张鎡晚年述怀,向往归隐。
从豪纵到禅寂,完成了深刻的认知转向。
词人重阳对菊,自叹平生豪纵已逝,转而向往禅室竹篱的闲散生活。
醉袖 · 寒香 · 豪纵 · 歌笑 · 痴钝
东山书院编辑整理