空山老桐劲如铁,英枝翦翦夜撑月。
霜风著子涵玉膏,烈手崇朝剖融结。
别令刳木环清泉,翠缸纸羃笼轻烟。
霏霏玄雾扫难聚,断犀烹炼凝蛟涎。
和成万杵𢭏圭璧,良工欲售常自惜。
绝怜剡水多夭藤,又虑端溪欠奇石。
久知此艺人罕精,作者未必识者明。
九华山下祝公子,颇以胶法成其名。
相逢但问诗有几,以诗换墨两自喜。
酴醾园馆已谢春,杨柳池塘正藏水。
薰风拂拂吹砚波,呼儿教作病手磨。
须臾满砚片云黑,无诗可写如君何。
空山老桐劲如铁,英枝翦翦夜撑月。
霜风著子涵玉膏,烈手崇朝剖融结。
别令刳木环清泉,翠缸纸羃笼轻烟。
霏霏玄雾扫难聚,断犀烹炼凝蛟涎。
和成万杵𢭏圭璧,良工欲售常自惜。
绝怜剡水多夭藤,又虑端溪欠奇石。
久知此艺人罕精,作者未必识者明。
九华山下祝公子,颇以胶法成其名。
相逢但问诗有几,以诗换墨两自喜。
酴醾园馆已谢春,杨柳池塘正藏水。
薰风拂拂吹砚波,呼儿教作病手磨。
须臾满砚片云黑,无诗可写如君何。
空寂的山中,老桐树坚硬如铁,
秀美的枝条齐整,在夜里撑托着明月。
霜风催结的桐籽蕴含着如玉的膏脂,
用猛力在清晨剖开那已凝固的结块。
另外指令刳空木头环绕清泉,
翠绿的缸,用纸覆盖,笼住轻烟。
细微的玄色雾气飘散难以聚拢,
截断的犀角经烹炼凝成蛟龙的涎液。
调和并捣杵万次制成圭璧般的墨锭,
良工想要出售却常常自己珍惜。
极为怜惜剡溪多有柔弱的藤蔓,
又忧虑端溪缺乏奇异的石材。
早就知道这门技艺世人罕能精通,
制作的人未必明白鉴赏者的眼光。
九华山下的祝公子,
很大程度上因胶法而成就其声名。
相逢时只问作诗有多少,
以诗换墨,两人各自欢喜。
酴醾花开的园馆已告别了春天,
杨柳垂拂的池塘正蓄满清水。
和暖的风轻轻吹动砚池的波纹,
叫来孩儿替我研磨,因手病无力。
片刻间满砚台泛起一片乌云般的浓黑,
若无诗可写,面对您我又该如何?
In the empty mountains, an old tung tree stands firm as iron,
Its splendid branches, sharply cut, prop up the moon at night.
Frosty winds bestow seeds that hold jade-like marrow within,
Strong hands at dawn break open the congealed, molten might.
Then hollowed wood is set around a clear spring's flow,
A green vat, paper-covered, traps the light smoke's veil.
Fine, dark mist drifts, too scattered to gather, as we know,
Broken rhinoceros horn is cooked, congealing dragon's spittle pale.
Pounded ten thousand times, it blends to form a jade disc's grace,
The skilled craftsman, wishing to sell, often holds it dear.
I deeply pity Shan Stream's many frail vines in that place,
And worry Duanxi lacks strange stones, bringing fear.
Long have I known this art is rare for men to master true,
The maker may not grasp what the connoisseur can see.
At Jiuhua Mountain's foot, Master Zhu, I think of you,
Who gained your fame through glue method's craft, it seems to me.
When we meet, we only ask how many poems you've penned,
Exchanging verse for ink, both hearts with joy ascend.
The rose garden has bid farewell to spring's fair end,
By willow-shaded ponds, the water's depth does blend.
A warm, gentle breeze ripples the inkstone's pool,
I call my son to grind it, though my hand feels the ache.
Soon the inkstone fills with a dark cloud, dense and cool,
But if no poem comes to write, for your sake, what can I make?
铁骨老桐,象征艺术创作中的坚韧博弈。
以老桐制墨为引,赞颂坚韧品质与艺术创造。
本诗为七言古诗,押平声韵。
东山书院编辑整理