老人登山汗如濯,倒床困卧呼不觉。
觉来五鼓日三竿,始信孤云天一握。
平生未省出艰险,两足惯曾行荦确。
含晖亭上望东溟,凌霄峰头挹南岳。
共爱丝杉翠丝乱,谁见玉芝红玉琢。
白云何事自来往,明月长圆无晦朔。
冢上鸡鸣犹忆钦,山前凤舞远征璞。
雪窗驯兔元不死,烟岭孤猿苦难捉。
从来白足傲生死,不怕黄巾把刀槊。
榻上双痕凛然在,剑头一鸡何须角。
嗟我昏顽晚闻道,与世龃龉空多学。
灵水先除眼界花,清诗为洗心源浊。
骚人未要逃竞病,禅老但喜闻剥啄。
此生更得几回来,从今有暇无辞数。
老人登山汗如濯,倒床困卧呼不觉。
觉来五鼓日三竿,始信孤云天一握。
平生未省出艰险,两足惯曾行荦确。
含晖亭上望东溟,凌霄峰头挹南岳。
共爱丝杉翠丝乱,谁见玉芝红玉琢。
白云何事自来往,明月长圆无晦朔。
冢上鸡鸣犹忆钦,山前凤舞远征璞。
雪窗驯兔元不死,烟岭孤猿苦难捉。
从来白足傲生死,不怕黄巾把刀槊。
榻上双痕凛然在,剑头一鸡何须角。
嗟我昏顽晚闻道,与世龃龉空多学。
灵水先除眼界花,清诗为洗心源浊。
骚人未要逃竞病,禅老但喜闻剥啄。
此生更得几回来,从今有暇无辞数。
老人登山,汗水淋漓如沐浴,
倒床困倦而卧,呼唤也醒不来。
醒来时已是五更天,日头升得老高,
这才相信孤云仿佛能握住天空一角。
平生从未经历过如此艰险,
双脚却已习惯行走在崎岖的山石上。
在含晖亭上眺望东海,
于凌霄峰顶遥揖南岳衡山。
众人都喜爱丝杉翠绿的枝叶纷披,
谁曾见过红玉芝草如同红玉雕琢?
白云为何独自往来飘荡?
明月长久圆满,没有晦朔的残缺。
坟冢上的鸡鸣,让人仍想起钦的典故,
山前的凤凰飞舞,远求那未经雕琢的璞玉。
雪窗旁驯顺的兔子原本不死,
烟霞岭上的孤猿实在难以捕捉。
僧人们向来超脱生死,
不惧怕黄巾军手持刀矛。
榻上两道痕迹凛然犹在,
又何须像螳螂一样举起前臂?
可叹我愚钝顽固,很晚才听闻大道,
与世不合,空自学了许多知识。
灵水先清除我眼中的幻象,
清雅的诗篇为我洗涤心源的污浊。
诗人不必逃避诗律的严格竞赛,
禅老只喜欢听到叩门声。
这一生还能有几次机会再来?
从今以后若有闲暇,定不推辞。
The old man climbs the mountain, sweat pours like a bath,
He falls on bed, exhausted, and cannot be roused from sleep.
Awake at fifth watch, the sun already three poles high,
Then I believe the lone cloud holds a handful of sky.
In all my life, I've never known such hardship and risk,
But my two feet are used to treading rugged stones.
From Hanhui Pavilion I gaze upon the eastern sea,
On Lingxiao Peak's top, I salute the southern mount.
All love the silk-fir's green threads in delightful disarray,
Who has seen the red jade carved from the jade mushroom rare?
Why does the white cloud come and go of its own will?
The bright moon stays ever round, without wax or wane.
Cocks crow on the tomb mound, still recalling Qin's day,
Phoenixes dance far ahead, seeking the uncut gem.
The tame hare by the snow window never truly dies,
The lone ape on misty ridge is hard indeed to catch.
White-footed monks have always scorned both life and death,
Unafraid of Yellow Scarves with their spears and swords.
Two marks on the couch remain, awe-inspiring there,
Why need a mantis raise its arms before the cart?
Alas, I, dull and stubborn, late to hear the Way,
At odds with the world, in vain have studied much.
The magic water first clears the flower from my eyes,
Pure poems then wash the turbid source of my heart.
Poets need not escape the contest of hard rhymes,
The old Zen master only joys in hearing knocks.
How many more returns can I expect in this life?
From now on, when I have leisure, I'll not decline.
身体的极限体验,是对自然周期律动的直接感知。
描绘老人登山归来的疲惫酣睡之态,充满生活情趣。
本诗为七言古诗,押平声韵。
东山书院编辑整理