闲坊古驿掩朱扉,又憩空堂绽客衣。
九万里中鲲自化,一千年外鹤仍归。
遶庭数竹饶新笋,解带量松长旧围。
惟有壁间诗句在,暗尘残墨两依依。
闲坊古驿掩朱扉,又憩空堂绽客衣。
九万里中鲲自化,一千年外鹤仍归。
遶庭数竹饶新笋,解带量松长旧围。
惟有壁间诗句在,暗尘残墨两依依。
幽静的街坊,古老的驿站,朱红的大门紧闭着;
我又一次在这空寂的厅堂中歇息,缝补着客居的衣衫。
那鲲鹏化为大鸟,自在翱翔于九万里的高空;
丁令威化鹤归来,纵然已过去了千年时光。
环绕庭院,几丛竹子旁冒出了许多新笋;
我解开衣带丈量松树,它们旧日的围度又增长了。
只有墙壁上题写的诗句还留存着,
尘埃暗淡,墨迹残存,两者都依依不舍地陪伴着这里。
An ancient post-house in a quiet lane, its vermilion gate shut tight;
Again I rest in the empty hall, mending my travel-worn clothes.
The roc transformed itself, soaring ninety thousand miles in flight;
The crane returns, though a thousand years have passed, as the legend goes.
Around the courtyard, bamboo shoots abound, piercing through the earth anew;
I loosen my belt to measure the pines—their girth has older grown.
Only the verses on the wall remain, steadfast and true,
Where dim dust and fading ink together linger, forlorn and alone.
古驿空堂的物理空间,映射出旅人对归属的认同焦虑。
描绘古驿荒凉空寂,寓含羁旅漂泊的孤寂之感。
本诗为七言律诗,押平声韵。
东山书院编辑整理