石壁高千尺,微踪远欲无。
飞檐如剑寺,古柏似仙都。
许子尝高遁,行舟悔不迂。
斩蛟闻猛烈,提剑想崎岖。
寂寞棺犹在,修崇世已愚。
隠居人不识,化去俗争吁。
洞府烟霞远,人间爪发枯。
飘飘乘倒景,谁复顾遗躯。
石壁高千尺,微踪远欲无。
飞檐如剑寺,古柏似仙都。
许子尝高遁,行舟悔不迂。
斩蛟闻猛烈,提剑想崎岖。
寂寞棺犹在,修崇世已愚。
隠居人不识,化去俗争吁。
洞府烟霞远,人间爪发枯。
飘飘乘倒景,谁复顾遗躯。
石壁高达千尺,
细微的踪迹远看几乎消失。
飞翘的屋檐像一座剑寺,
古老的柏树似有仙都气象。
许子(许旌阳)曾在此高蹈隐居,
我乘舟经过,后悔没有迂回拜访。
听闻他斩蛟的猛烈事迹,
提剑斩妖的艰险令人遐想。
他寂寞的棺椁依然存在,
世人的尊崇如今看来已是愚昧。
隐居之人不被俗世认识,
化仙而去,俗人何必争相惊叹。
他修炼的洞府远在烟霞之外,
人间的躯壳终将爪发枯朽。
他飘飘然乘着倒影般的光景飞升,
谁还会顾念那遗留在世的躯体呢?
The stone cliff towers a thousand feet high;
Faint traces seem to vanish, distant nigh.
The flying eaves like a sword-temple stand;
Ancient cypresses recall an immortal land.
Master Xu once lived in lofty seclusion here;
Sailing past, I regret not taking a detour sincere.
I've heard of his fierce deed in slaying the flood dragon;
I imagine him, sword in hand, on paths rugged and brazen.
His lonely coffin still remains in this place;
The world's reverence now seems foolish, a disgrace.
The recluse unknown to common men;
Transformed and gone, why do the vulgar clamor then?
His cave abode is far in mist and rosy cloud;
In the mortal world, nails and hair wither, a shroud.
He floats and rides on the inverted light;
Who would still care for the body left in plight?
面对自然伟力,个体需在认知上重新定位自我。
描绘木枥观高耸石壁与幽微人迹,展现自然之雄奇与超然世外的意境。
本诗为五言古诗,押平声韵。
东山书院编辑整理