虾蟆,虾蟆,汝本吾田蛙。
渴饮吾稻根水,饥食吾禾穟花。
池塘雨初霁,篱落月半斜。
啁啁又向他人叫,使我惆怅悲无涯。
虾蟆对我说,使君休怨嗟。
古田千年八百主,如今一年换一家。
休怨嗟,休怨嗟。
明年此日君见我,不知又是谁田蛙。
虾蟆,虾蟆,汝本吾田蛙。
渴饮吾稻根水,饥食吾禾穟花。
池塘雨初霁,篱落月半斜。
啁啁又向他人叫,使我惆怅悲无涯。
虾蟆对我说,使君休怨嗟。
古田千年八百主,如今一年换一家。
休怨嗟,休怨嗟。
明年此日君见我,不知又是谁田蛙。
蛤蟆啊,蛤蟆,
你本是我田里的青蛙。
渴了便饮我稻根下的水,
饿了便吃我禾穗上的花。
池塘上雨刚停歇,
篱笆边月已西斜。
你又朝着他人啁啁鸣叫,
使我感到无尽的惆怅与悲切。
蛤蟆对我说,
先生请不要再哀怨叹息。
这片古田历经千年,换过八百位主人,
如今一年就更换一家。
不要再哀怨,不要再叹息。
明年今日你若见到我,
不知又成了谁家田里的青蛙。
Toad, oh toad,
You were originally the frog of my field.
When thirsty, you drank from my rice roots' yield,
When hungry, you fed on my grain ears' bloom.
The pond just cleared after the rain,
The fence bathed in the moon's slanting gloom.
Chirping, you now call to others again,
Leaving me boundless sorrow and pain.
The toad then said to me,
My lord, cease your lament and plea.
For a thousand years, eight hundred masters this old field has seen,
Now it changes hands each year, as is the routine.
Cease your lament, oh cease your sigh.
On this day next year when you see me pass by,
Who knows in whose field's frog I'll lie.
对田蛙的命名权博弈隐含身份归属的深层认同
以呼告田蛙表达对田园本真的追忆与呼唤
本诗为杂言古诗,押平声韵。
东山书院编辑整理