旧留席帽知何在,秃鬓乌巾一任斜。
病发相如空视草,梦迷太白谩生花。
古今来往三千载,文字消磨几百家。
底为藏山痴作计,衰翁笔砚是生涯。
旧留席帽知何在,秃鬓乌巾一任斜。
病发相如空视草,梦迷太白谩生花。
古今来往三千载,文字消磨几百家。
底为藏山痴作计,衰翁笔砚是生涯。
昔日留下的席帽,如今知道在何处?
鬓发稀疏,戴着乌巾,任凭它歪斜。
病中的我像司马相如,空对着草稿审阅;
迷离的梦境里仿若李白,徒然生出妙笔之花。
古往今来,岁月流逝已三千载,
文字著述消磨了多少百家学派。
究竟为何还痴心谋划着藏之名山的事业?
我这衰朽老翁的笔砚,便是此生生涯。
Where is the old straw hat I once left behind?
My thinning hair under a black turban, let it tilt as it may.
Sick like Sima Xiangru, I gaze at drafts in vain;
Lost in dreams like Li Bai, idly does the flower bloom.
Through three thousand years of coming and going,
How many hundred schools of writing have worn away?
Why still scheme, obsessed with works to hide in mountains?
This declining old man's brush and inkstone are his life.
物是人非的周期律动,引发身份认同的思考。
通过日常衣冠的变迁,抒发时光流逝、人生易老的感慨。
本诗为七言律诗,押平声韵。
东山书院编辑整理