閑坊古驛掩朱扉,又憩空堂綻客衣。
九萬裡中鯤自化,一千年外鶴仍歸。
遶庭數竹饒新筍,解帶量松長舊圍。
惟有壁間詩句在,暗塵殘墨兩依依。
閑坊古驛掩朱扉,又憩空堂綻客衣。
九萬裡中鯤自化,一千年外鶴仍歸。
遶庭數竹饒新筍,解帶量松長舊圍。
惟有壁間詩句在,暗塵殘墨兩依依。
幽靜的街坊,古老的驛站,硃紅的大門緊閉著;
我又一次在這空寂的廳堂中歇息,縫補著客居的衣衫。
那鯤鵬化為大鳥,自在翱翔於九萬里的高空;
丁令威化鶴歸來,縱然已過去了千年時光。
環繞庭院,幾叢竹子旁冒出了許多新筍;
我解開衣帶丈量松樹,它們舊日的圍度又增長了。
只有牆壁上題寫的詩句還留存著,
塵埃暗淡,墨跡殘存,兩者都依依不捨地陪伴著這裡。
An ancient post-house in a quiet lane, its vermilion gate shut tight;
Again I rest in the empty hall, mending my travel-worn clothes.
The roc transformed itself, soaring ninety thousand miles in flight;
The crane returns, though a thousand years have passed, as the legend goes.
Around the courtyard, bamboo shoots abound, piercing through the earth anew;
I loosen my belt to measure the pines—their girth has older grown.
Only the verses on the wall remain, steadfast and true,
Where dim dust and fading ink together linger, forlorn and alone.
古驛空堂的物理空間,映射出旅人對歸屬的認同焦慮。
描繪古驛荒涼空寂,寓含羈旅漂泊的孤寂之感。
本詩為七言律詩,押平聲韻。
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