君不見蜀王妃子墓突兀,成都城中若山積。
墓頭寒鏡澀無光,妬月欺煙化為石。
鴻荒無根憑野史,直謂山妖化妃子。
臨終未免懷首丘,運土山中葬於此。
山名武擔錦江邊,用是得名千萬年。
如今佛閣倚空翠,老木盤鬰摩蒼天。
晴雲入穴西山出,捲簾坐見嵐光滴。
撥得文如汲冢書,免使後人疑往昔。
君不見蜀王妃子墓突兀,成都城中若山積。
墓頭寒鏡澀無光,妬月欺煙化為石。
鴻荒無根憑野史,直謂山妖化妃子。
臨終未免懷首丘,運土山中葬於此。
山名武擔錦江邊,用是得名千萬年。
如今佛閣倚空翠,老木盤鬰摩蒼天。
晴雲入穴西山出,捲簾坐見嵐光滴。
撥得文如汲冢書,免使後人疑往昔。
您難道沒有看見蜀王妃子的墳墓高高聳立嗎?
在成都城中,它堆積得像一座山。
墓頂那面寒冷的鏡子黯淡無光,
它妒忌明月,欺瞞雲霧,最終化爲了石頭。
在遠古茫昧的時代,沒有根據的傳說依賴野史記載,
直接說是山中的妖精化作了這位妃子。
臨終時她終究不免懷念故土,
於是運來泥土在山中,將她埋葬於此。
這座山名叫武擔,位於錦江邊上,
因爲這個典故而得名,流傳了千萬年。
如今一座佛閣倚靠著空靈的翠色,
古老的樹木盤曲茂盛,仿佛觸摸著蒼天。
晴朗的雲飄入山洞,又從西山浮現,
捲起帘子坐著,便看見山間霧氣凝結的光華仿佛在滴落。
發掘出如同汲冢古書般的文獻,
以免讓後世之人對往昔產生疑惑。
Have you not seen the tomb of the Shu king's consort, towering and steep,
In the heart of Chengdu city, piled like a mountain heap?
The cold mirror atop the tomb, dull and without a gleam,
Envied the moon, deceived the mist, and turned into stone, it would seem.
In primal chaos, rootless tales rely on folklore's hand,
Simply claiming a mountain sprite transformed into this lady grand.
At life's end, she could not but yearn for her homeland's resting ground,
So soil was moved into the hills, where she in earth was bound.
The mountain's name is Wudan, by the Jinjiang River's side,
Thus from this tale its name for countless years has been applied.
Now a Buddhist pavilion leans against the empty green,
Ancient trees, coiled and dense, rub against the sky's serene.
Clear clouds drift into caves, from western hills they part,
Sitting by the rolled-up blinds, I watch the mountain light drip, a work of art.
Unearthing texts like those from Ji Tomb, writings of ancient lore,
Lest later generations doubt the truths of days of yore.
古墓如山堆積,引發對歷史周期與權力認同的沉思。
憑弔蜀王妃子墓,感慨歷史滄桑。
本詩為七言古詩,押平聲韻。
東山書院編輯整理