七千七百七十丈,丈丈藤萝势入天。
未必展来空似翅,不妨开去也成莲。
月将河汉分岩转,僧与龙蛇共窟眠。
直是画工须阁笔,况无名画可流传。
七千七百七十丈,丈丈藤萝势入天。
未必展来空似翅,不妨开去也成莲。
月将河汉分岩转,僧与龙蛇共窟眠。
直是画工须阁笔,况无名画可流传。
山高七千七百七十丈,
每一丈都有藤萝之势直插云天。
展开未必徒然像翅膀,
不妨开放也能成莲花。
月亮携银河分岩转动,
僧人与龙蛇共窟而眠。
这等景象画家也须搁笔,
何况并无名画可以流传。
Seven thousand seven hundred and seventy zhang high,
Every zhang, vines and creepers strive to reach the sky.
Unfurled, they might not vainly resemble wings,
Yet spreading out, they can also form lotuses.
The moon parts the Milky Way as it turns past cliffs.
Monks share their caves with dragons and serpents in sleep.
Truly, a painter would have to lay down his brush.
Moreover, no famous painting could be passed down.
曹松咏南岳霍山,极言其高险神异。
以山喻道,其不可描摹性挑战了人类认知的极限。
描绘霍山高耸入云的壮丽景象与奇幻意境,突出其自然鬼斧神工超越人工画艺
丈丈入天 · 画工阁笔 · 无名流传
本诗为七言律诗,押平声韵。
东山书院编辑整理