身世厌漂零,衣冠愧典刑。
乾坤开阖户,日月短长亭。
水阔连天白,山高拥岸青。
扬雄中有宅,垂老太玄经。
身世厌漂零,衣冠愧典刑。
乾坤开阖户,日月短长亭。
水阔连天白,山高拥岸青。
扬雄中有宅,垂老太玄经。
我厌倦了这漂泊无定的身世;
身着士人衣冠,却有愧于先贤的典范。
天地犹如一扇开合的门户;
日月交替,如同长短不一的驿亭。
水面辽阔,与天际的白色相连;
山峦高耸,环抱着青翠的江岸。
此处曾是扬雄居住的宅院;
他年老时仍埋头著述《太玄经》。
I weary of this drifting life, a waif;
In scholar's garb, I shame the ancient way.
The world's a door that opens and shuts fast;
The sun and moon, a short or lengthy stay.
The waters stretch to meet the sky's white gleam;
The lofty hills embrace the shore's green hue.
Here Yang Xiong had his dwelling and his dream—
In age, still pondering his "Mystic" view.
漂泊经历冲击着对文化身份的认同。
诗人感慨身世漂泊,愧对先贤风范,流露自省与无奈。
本诗为五言律诗,押平声韵。
东山书院编辑整理