我不能如叔子登岘首,名配此山垂不朽。
又不能如少陵登吹台,酒酣怀古胸崔嵬。
但见穹崖翠阜清绝处,爱此出奇不尽之诗材。
邵阳城中景何好,峻屏四面森围绕。
西南诸峰尤蔚然,地接衡庐青未了。
天将图画开湘堧,云木罗立呈鲜妍。
上有蝉联百雉之粉堞,下有鳞差万瓦之晴烟。
人指山形似龙跃,绣谷峥嵘露头角。
遐观捧出颔底珠,背负凌虚势腾踔。
一爪突起扶杏冈,一爪盘踞苍雪傍。
翘尾蜿蜒卷寒碧,便拟为霖苏八荒。
老我跻攀兴不浅,醉吟拍拍诗瓢满。
祇言此乐与人同,谁子看山能具眼。
我不能如叔子登岘首,名配此山垂不朽。
又不能如少陵登吹台,酒酣怀古胸崔嵬。
但见穹崖翠阜清绝处,爱此出奇不尽之诗材。
邵阳城中景何好,峻屏四面森围绕。
西南诸峰尤蔚然,地接衡庐青未了。
天将图画开湘堧,云木罗立呈鲜妍。
上有蝉联百雉之粉堞,下有鳞差万瓦之晴烟。
人指山形似龙跃,绣谷峥嵘露头角。
遐观捧出颔底珠,背负凌虚势腾踔。
一爪突起扶杏冈,一爪盘踞苍雪傍。
翘尾蜿蜒卷寒碧,便拟为霖苏八荒。
老我跻攀兴不浅,醉吟拍拍诗瓢满。
祇言此乐与人同,谁子看山能具眼。
我不能像羊祜那样登上岘山,让名声与此山相配,永垂不朽。
又不能像杜甫那样登上吹台,酒酣之际怀想往古,胸中意气崔嵬。
但见那高崖翠岭清幽绝美之处,便深爱这涌现不尽奇妙诗材的境地。
邵阳城中的景色多么美好,陡峭如屏的山峰四面森然环绕。
西南方向的诸峰尤其葱郁蔚然,地势连接衡山与庐山,青翠连绵不绝。
上天仿佛在湘水边展开了图画,云烟林木罗列呈现鲜丽明媚之姿。
上方有连绵不断的白色城墙雉堞,下方是鳞次栉比的万片屋瓦映着晴空烟霭。
人们指着山形说它好似蛟龙跃起,锦绣山谷中峥嵘地露出头角。
远观仿佛从颔下捧出一颗明珠,背负虚空,气势腾跃而上。
一只龙爪突起在扶杏冈旁,另一只龙爪盘踞在苍雪之畔。
翘起的尾巴蜿蜒卷动着寒碧之色,便打算兴云布雨,滋润天下荒芜之地。
老夫我登攀的兴致依然不浅,醉中吟咏,拍打诗瓢,灵感盈满。
只说这般乐趣与他人相同,可有谁看山真能具此慧眼?
I cannot ascend Mount Xian like General Yang Hu, whose name matches this mountain, enduring forever.
Nor can I climb the Terrace of Song like Du Fu, drunk with wine, my breast swelling with thoughts of the past.
But I see the sheer cliffs and emerald hills in their pristine beauty, and love this inexhaustible source of wondrous poetic material.
How fine are the scenes within Shaoyang city, with steep screens of peaks densely encircling on all sides.
The southwestern peaks are especially lush and vast, the land connecting to Heng and Lu, their verdure endless.
Heaven has unfolded this painting along the Xiang riverbank, where cloud-wrapped trees stand arrayed, fresh and fair.
Above, linked like cicadas, the whitewashed battlements stretch for miles; below, scales of countless tiles gleam under clear smoke.
People point to the mountain's shape, resembling a dragon leaping, its embroidered valleys steep, revealing head and horns.
Gazing afar, it seems to hold a pearl beneath its chin, bearing aloft a soaring posture, poised to vault.
One claw rises abruptly by the Apricot Ridge, another coils entrenched beside the pale snow.
Its upturned tail winds and curls, clutching the cold jade-green, as if ready to send down rain to revive the barren lands.
Old as I am, my zeal for climbing is undimmed; drunk, I chant, patting my verse-gourd till it's full.
I only say this joy is shared with others, but who among those viewing mountains possesses a discerning eye?
反映个体在历史周期中的渺小与声望博弈。
诗人感慨无法像古人那样建功立业、名垂不朽。
本诗为七言古诗,押平声韵。
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