白居易诗
Poems of Bai Juyi
Index
琵琶行
The Pipa Master
元和十年予左迁九江郡司马 明年秋送客湓浦口 闻舟中夜弹琵琶者听其音 铮铮然有京都声问其人 本长安倡女尝学琵琶于穆 曹二善才年长色衰 委身为贾人妇遂命酒使快弹数曲 曲罢悯然自叙少小时欢乐事 今漂 沦憔悴转徙于江湖间 予出官二年恬然自安感斯人言 是夕始觉有迁谪意因为长句 歌以赠之凡六百一十六言 命曰琵琶行
In the tenth year of Emperor Xianzong, I was demoted to a deputy position in Nine Rivers prefecture. The next autumn, while seeing a guest off along the river one night, we heard the music of a pipa coming from a boat on the water. It reminded me of a pipa player I had heard in Chang'an. The player turned out to be a woman from Chang'an who had studied with Master Mu Cao'er. Now an older woman, she was in the service of a rich merchant's wife along the river. We ordered wine and chatted happily for hours about her music. Today, I am worn out, at wits' end, and on the road. After two years, I am ordered to leave my posting. I've made peace with myself and with what people say about me. As I was falling asleep tonight, thinking of my demotion, this poem came to me: 616 characters I call, "The Pipa Master."
|
浔阳江头夜送客 枫叶荻花秋瑟瑟 主人下马客在船 举酒欲饮无管弦 |
By the river docks in Xunyang, seeing off a guest, Autumn winds rustled red leaves and dead rushes. Standing by my horse, I watched my guest board. Wishing for another cup of wine, I missed the faint music. |
|
醉不成欢惨将别 别时茫茫江浸月 忽闻水上琵琶声 主人忘归客不发 |
Not drunk enough to kill the sadness, I planned to stay And drink by the broad river and the drowning moon. Suddenly, a pipa rang out on the dark river and I Stood speechless while my guest rejoined me from the boat. |
|
寻声暗问弹者谁 琵琶声停欲语迟 移船相近邀相见 添酒回灯重开宴 |
We asked each other who was playing. The pipa paused and we did too. It came closer and we called out, offering Good wine, bright lamps, a feast renewed. |
|
千呼万唤始出来 犹抱琵琶半遮面 转轴拨弦三两声 未成曲调先有情 |
We were importunate in our invitation. The boat approached. We could not see a face. Only heard a few bright spinning notes, too few To name the tune. Enough to touch our hearts. |
|
弦弦掩抑声声思 似诉平生不得意 低眉信手续续弹 说尽心中无限事 |
She played and we listened to music which In all our lives we would never have imagined. Kindly, effortlessly, she played and played. Then, without restraint, she would explain it all. |
|
轻拢慢捻抹复挑 初为霓裳后绿腰 大弦嘈嘈如急雨 小弦切切如私语 |
Strings lightly gathered or slowly twirled Played Rainbow Garments and then Green Silk Waist. Big strings rumbling like a violent rain. Small strings whispering like wind through the pines. |
|
嘈嘈切切错杂弹 大珠小珠落玉盘 间关莺语花底滑 幽咽泉流冰下难 |
Rumbling, whispering, back and forth. Big pearls, small pearls, filling a jade bowl. The singing of orioles, heard amid the flowers. The murmur of a frozen spring, breaking through ice. |
|
冰泉冷涩弦凝绝 凝绝不通声渐歇 别有幽愁暗恨生 此时无声胜有声 |
Thawing spring so sluggish, strings all but exhausted. Almost exhausted, unable to break through, silence. In the silence, a distant worry remains, a dark regret. Now all is silence, surpassing every sound. |
|
银瓶乍破水浆迸 铁骑突出刀枪鸣 曲终收拨当心画 四弦一声如裂帛 |
A silver bottle breaks and spills across the floor. Armed horsemen couch lances and draw swords. Her music ends and leaves a picture in your mind, Voices of four strings like ink brush on silk. |
|
东船西舫悄无言 唯见江心秋月白 沉吟放拨插弦中 整顿衣裳起敛容 |
Boats plying east and west. No one says a word. White autumn moon floats midstream. From her strings, a cry rings out. She straightens her clothes and frowns. |
|
自言本是京城女 家在虾蟆陵下住 十三学得琵琶成 名属教坊第一部 |
She tells us she was born in Chang'an, Living in a house beneath Toad Hill. At thirteen, she studied the pipa And studied at the best of schools. |
|
曲罢曾教善才服 妆成每被秋娘妒 五陵年少争缠头 一曲红绡不知数 |
Her songs she learned from a master. Her beauty often made the older women jealous. Rich young men competed in giving her favors. She played Red Silk everywhere she went. |
|
钿头云篦击节碎 血色罗裙翻酒污 今年欢笑复明年 秋月春风等闲度 |
But her mother-of-pearl haircombs would get broken. And her silk dresses would be covered in spilt wine. Now she is much happier. Next year should be happy too. Autumn moons, spring winds, a normal life. |
|
弟走从军阿姨死 暮去朝来颜色故 门前冷落鞍马稀 老大嫁作商人妇 |
Her little brother joined the army. Her best aunt died. Time flies and faces wrinkle. Fewer and fewer horses were tethered at her gates. Too old to marry, she took work with a trader's wife. |
|
商人重利轻别离 前月浮梁买茶去 去来江口守空船 绕船月明江水寒 |
The trader is a greedy one. She could easily leave him. Last month he left for Fuliang to buy tea. She comes to the river to watch his empty boats. The boats float. The moon shines. The river is cold. |
|
夜深忽梦少年事 梦啼妆泪红阑干 我闻琵琶已叹息 又闻此语重唧唧 |
Late at night she dreams of childhood things, Cries out, and wakes to find herself crying. After she played, you would hear her sigh, Her sigh echoed by the song of insects in the night. |
|
同是天涯沦落人 相逢何必曾相识 我从去年辞帝京 谪居卧病浔阳城 |
Into this far place, we both have fallen. Could our meeting be the karma of past lives? Only a year ago was I dismissed from the capital. Now I am exiled and ill here in Xunyang. |
|
浔阳地僻无音乐 终岁不闻丝竹声 住近湓江地低湿 黄芦苦竹绕宅生 |
In this rustic town there is no real music. In this whole year, no sound of silk and bamboo. I live in the mud where the river overflows. Bamboo and yellow rushes grow all around my house. |
|
其间旦暮闻何物 杜鹃啼血猿哀鸣 春江花朝秋月夜 往往取酒还独倾 |
From morning to night here, what does one hear? Cuckoos singing sadly and the wail of apes. Spring river mornings, moonlit autumn nights are lovely But no matter how much I drink, I'm still lonely. |
|
岂无山歌与村笛 呕哑嘲哳难为听 今夜闻君琵琶语 如听仙乐耳暂明 |
Constant farm songs, rustic flutes, and Bird and monkey calls are hard to listen to. Tonight, the voice of your pipa was like Immortal music suddenly gracing my ears. |
|
莫辞更坐弹一曲 为君翻作琵琶行 感我此言良久立 却坐促弦弦转急 |
No more talk now. Play us a tune. And I will write a song for you. Move me and these words will last forever. Tighten your strings first so you can twirl them hard. |
|
凄凄不似向前声 满座重闻皆掩泣 座中泣下谁最多 江州司马青衫湿 |
It will be a sad song, not some straight-ahead tune. In a full house, not a single eye will be dry. And sitting there, who will it be that cries the most? The local marshal, me, wiping tears into wet sleeves. |
-- 白居易
废话
It is 818 and Bai Juyi has been ordered to leave his appointment in Jiangzhou (江州), Sichuan (四川), to be governor of Chongzhou (崇州) in even more remote Sichuan. Those who wanted him out of the capital are perhaps sending him somewhere even more malarial so that he will finally go away. On his way, he writes this song.
It's hard to tell, after a while, whether Bai Juyi openly records his life or makes an ongoing romance out of it. Not that it matters. In fact, it makes him famous. By this time in his life, he knows that he is famous. He hears people quoting his politically-motivated ballads. Singing girls point him out as the author of Songs of Qin and the Song of Deep Regret. His friend Yuan Zhen, exiled to the edge of the empire in the west, has found two lines of Bai Juyi's poetry inscribed on the wall of an old monastery. Even Bai Juyi's bosses in Sichuan quote him without knowing who they are quoting.
I think it all embarasses him a little. But it pleases him too. He has written Yuan Zhen a long letter from Sichuan telling him that the point of poetry is to make a better world. And his ballads have reached the ears of emperors and made a difference. The have reached other powerful ears as well and gotten him exiled more than once. He takes the good with the bad, uses his salary to care for brothers who lose jobs and show up with seven motherless children, builds a rustic cottage to dream of Daoist heavens in, and moves on when Heaven's will decrees.