相如當日,曾奏凌雲賦。
落筆縱橫妙風雨。
記揚鞭輦路,同醉金明,窮勝賞,不管重城已暮。
舊遊如夢覺,零落朋儕,遺墨淋漓尚如故。
況神洲北望,今已丘墟,傷白璧、久埋黃土。
但空似、靈光巋然存,悵朗月清風,更無玄度。
相如當日,曾奏凌雲賦。
落筆縱橫妙風雨。
記揚鞭輦路,同醉金明,窮勝賞,不管重城已暮。
舊遊如夢覺,零落朋儕,遺墨淋漓尚如故。
況神洲北望,今已丘墟,傷白璧、久埋黃土。
但空似、靈光巋然存,悵朗月清風,更無玄度。
司馬相如當年,曾獻上凌雲之賦。
落筆縱橫,精妙如風雨揮灑。
記得我們並馬馳騁在御道,同醉於金明池畔,
盡情游賞勝景,哪管重重城門已暮色四合。
舊日同游恍如一夢醒來,友人零落四散,
唯有他淋漓的墨跡依然如故,鮮活生動。
何況北望中原神州,如今已成丘墟,
悲傷那白璧般的人才,久已埋沒於黃土。
但空自像魯靈光殿般巋然獨存,
悵惘那朗月清風之境,再無玄度這樣的知己相伴。
Sima Xiangru once, with soaring prose, made his name.
His brush swept like wind and rain, a master's claim.
We raced our steeds by palace roads, drunk in Jinming's light,
Chasing splendors till dusk fell, ignoring the city's night.
Old journeys wake like dreams; friends scattered, lost and few,
Yet his dashing ink remains vibrant, vivid, true.
Gazing north to the lost heartland, now ruins and dust,
I mourn the buried jade, long sunk in the yellow crust.
Only his spirit stands, like a lone temple, grand and high,
But where's the moonlit breeze, and the friend who shared the sky?
曾紆睹友遺墨,懷才士與故國。
墨跡存續是對文化認同淪陷的無聲抵抗。
追憶昔日同游勝景,感懷故友零落、故國丘墟,唯存遺墨與清風明月相伴。
凌雲賦 · 金明 · 靈光 · 玄度
東山書院編輯整理