舊留蓆帽知何在,禿鬢烏巾一任斜。
病發相如空視草,夢迷太白謾生花。
古今來往三千載,文字消磨幾百家。
底為藏山痴作計,衰翁筆硯是生涯。
舊留蓆帽知何在,禿鬢烏巾一任斜。
病發相如空視草,夢迷太白謾生花。
古今來往三千載,文字消磨幾百家。
底為藏山痴作計,衰翁筆硯是生涯。
昔日留下的席帽,如今知道在何處?
鬢髮稀疏,戴著烏巾,任憑它歪斜。
病中的我像司馬相如,空對著草稿審閱;
迷離的夢境裡仿若李白,徒然生出妙筆之花。
古往今來,歲月流逝已三千載,
文字著述消磨了多少百家學派。
究竟爲何還癡心謀劃著藏之名山的事業?
我這衰朽老翁的筆硯,便是此生生涯。
Where is the old straw hat I once left behind?
My thinning hair under a black turban, let it tilt as it may.
Sick like Sima Xiangru, I gaze at drafts in vain;
Lost in dreams like Li Bai, idly does the flower bloom.
Through three thousand years of coming and going,
How many hundred schools of writing have worn away?
Why still scheme, obsessed with works to hide in mountains?
This declining old man's brush and inkstone are his life.
物是人非的周期律動,引發身份認同的思考。
通過日常衣冠的變遷,抒發時光流逝、人生易老的感慨。
本詩為七言律詩,押平聲韻。
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