四十头颅已可知,残年至此复何为。
著书不直一杯水,看镜空添千缕丝。
达宦独骄儒作戏,后生速化吏为师。
有冠当挂无余说,但恨衰翁见事迟。
四十头颅已可知,残年至此复何为。
著书不直一杯水,看镜空添千缕丝。
达宦独骄儒作戏,后生速化吏为师。
有冠当挂无余说,但恨衰翁见事迟。
四十岁的年纪,命运已可预知,
到了这风烛残年,还能做些什么呢?
著书立说,其价值还不如一杯清水,
对镜自照,徒然增添千缕白发。
显达的官员独自骄纵,儒生不过如同戏子,
后辈急于求成,竟把胥吏奉为老师。
若有官帽,就当挂起——无须多言,
只恨我这衰朽的老翁,明白事理太迟。
At forty, my fate is already clear to see,
What more can I do in these declining years?
Writing books is worth less than a cup of water,
Gazing in the mirror only adds a thousand strands of white hair.
High officials alone are proud, scholars but play a game,
The younger generation swiftly turns clerks into their masters.
If there's an official hat, it should be hung up—no more to say,
I only regret this old man sees the truth so late.
面对生命周期的压力,陷入对个人价值的深度认知。
诗人对年届四十、功业未成的残年境遇发出深沉慨叹与自省。
本诗为七言律诗,押平声韵。
东山书院编辑整理