月中依松鹤,露下抱叶蝉。
赋形已孤洁,发响仍清圆。
潜师本江海,浪迹游市廛。
髭长不能剪,衲坏聊复穿。
瘦骨见图画,禅心离攀缘。
出言可人意,一一皆自然。
问师藏何深,不与世俗传。
旧识髯学士,复从琏耆年。
尘埃既脱落,文彩自精鲜。
落落社中人,如我亦有旃。
奈何一相见,抚卷坐长叹。
归去勿复言,山林信多贤。
月中依松鹤,露下抱叶蝉。
赋形已孤洁,发响仍清圆。
潜师本江海,浪迹游市廛。
髭长不能剪,衲坏聊复穿。
瘦骨见图画,禅心离攀缘。
出言可人意,一一皆自然。
问师藏何深,不与世俗传。
旧识髯学士,复从琏耆年。
尘埃既脱落,文彩自精鲜。
落落社中人,如我亦有旃。
奈何一相见,抚卷坐长叹。
归去勿复言,山林信多贤。
月光下,你倚靠着松树,像一只栖息的白鹤;
夜露中,你怀抱着树叶,如一只鸣叫的寒蝉。
你的形貌本就孤高清净,
你发出的声响也依然清亮圆润。
道潜师父原本寄身于江海之间,
却浪迹游走于市井街巷。
胡须长了也不修剪,
僧衣破了就暂且缝补再穿。
清瘦的骨骼仿佛可以入画,
禅定的心已远离一切攀缘执着。
说出的话总能契合人心,
每一句都那么自然流露。
敢问师父,您心中藏着怎样深奥的玄机,
不肯传授给世俗之人?
我旧日曾结识那位长髯的学士(指苏轼),
如今又追随您这位年高德劭的琏公。
世俗的尘埃既然已经脱落,
内在的文采光华自然精妙鲜明。
在这超然不群的莲社众人之中,
像我这样的人,也有一席之地吧。
可为何一旦相见,
我却只能抚摸着经卷,久久叹息?
回去吧,不必再多说了,
山林之中,确实多有贤德之士啊。
Beneath the moon, you lean on a pine, a crane at rest,
In the dew, you embrace the leaves, a cicada's nest.
Your form is shaped in solitude and purity,
Your voice, when raised, remains both clear and perfectly free.
Master Qian, you hailed from rivers and the sea,
Yet wandered through the markets, footloose and carefree.
Your long beard you would not shear,
Your worn robe you'd simply wear.
Your gaunt bones are captured in a painting's art,
Your Zen mind has severed all ties that bind the heart.
Your words, when spoken, please the listener's ear,
Each one arises naturally, sincere.
I ask what deep truths you conceal within,
That you won't share with the common world of men.
I once knew the bearded scholar, wise and old,
And now follow Lian, whose years have made him bold.
Once the dust of worldly cares has fallen away,
The innate brilliance shines forth, fresh and gay.
Aloof, among the members of this sacred band,
Like me, you too have taken a firm stand.
Yet why, when we finally meet face to face,
Do I stroke the scroll and sigh, time and space?
Go back now, let us speak no more of this,
The woods and hills hold many a sage in bliss.
自然意象的并置构建出对超验认知的静观。
刻画月下松鹤、露中叶蝉的幽静画面,烘托僧人超然物外、清寂脱俗的禅境。
本诗为五言古诗,押平声韵。
东山书院编辑整理