回舟武昌郭,暂往樊水上。
樊水何清冷,樊山亦孤壮。
寿藤验百岁,乔木过十丈。
绝俗殊崎岖,攀缘幸可傍。
林端见渔舍,户牖相背向。
鸡犬鸣云中,神仙岂殊状。
昔闻元次山,于焉寄荒浪。
邻里俱已非,陵谷平得丧。
茅茨固微物,芜灭不可访。
向乏数卷书,终随众人葬。
清时易直道,末俗摈高尚。
陈迹成渺茫,孤吟屡惆怅。
回舟武昌郭,暂往樊水上。
樊水何清冷,樊山亦孤壮。
寿藤验百岁,乔木过十丈。
绝俗殊崎岖,攀缘幸可傍。
林端见渔舍,户牖相背向。
鸡犬鸣云中,神仙岂殊状。
昔闻元次山,于焉寄荒浪。
邻里俱已非,陵谷平得丧。
茅茨固微物,芜灭不可访。
向乏数卷书,终随众人葬。
清时易直道,末俗摈高尚。
陈迹成渺茫,孤吟屡惆怅。
回舟停靠在武昌城郭,
暂时前往樊水之畔。
樊水多么清澈寒冷,
樊山也孤高雄壮。
寿藤验证了百岁年龄;
乔木超过十丈之高。
与世隔绝,道路格外崎岖;
幸而可以攀缘而上。
在树林尽头看见渔人的房舍,
门窗相互背对着方向。
鸡犬在云中鸣叫,
莫非是神仙,难道模样不同?
昔日听说元次山,
在此寄托于荒僻的浪迹。
邻里都已经改变,
山陵河谷变平,得失消亡。
茅屋固然是微贱之物,
荒芜湮灭,不可寻访。
从前缺少几卷书,
终究要随众人一样埋葬。
清平时代容易行直道;
末代风俗却排斥高尚。
陈迹已成为渺茫往事;
独自吟咏,屡屡感到惆怅。
Turning my boat by Wuchang's city wall,
I pause awhile on Fán River's shore.
How clear and cool the Fán waters flow;
How lone and grand the Fán mountains soar.
The aged vines attest a hundred years;
The tall trees tower over ten zhang high.
Cut off from world, the path is rough and steep;
By climbing up, I'm fortunate to draw nigh.
At woods' edge, I see fishermen's abodes;
Their doors and windows face in opposite ways.
Cocks and dogs crow and bark amid the clouds—
Are these immortals in uncommon guise?
I heard of Yuan Cishan in days of yore,
Who here entrusted himself to wild waves.
Neighbors and alleys all have changed by now;
Hills and valleys leveled, gains and losses lost.
Thatched huts, though humble things, have disappeared;
O'er grown with weeds, they can't be visited.
In former times, I lacked a few scrolls of books,
And feared I'd end up buried with the crowd.
In clear times, straight paths are easily found;
But vulgar ages spurn the noble mind.
Traces of past have vanished, vague and dim;
Alone I chant, repeatedly forlorn.
流动空间中的个体认知与短暂栖居
描绘行舟暂泊樊口的旅途片段
本诗为五言古诗,押平声韵。
东山书院编辑整理