苏轼代表作英译

1《水调歌头》

丙辰中秋，欢饮达旦，大醉，作此篇，兼怀子由。


明月几时有？
把酒问青天。
不知天上宫阙，
今夕是何年。
我欲乘风归去，
又恐琼楼玉宇，
高处不胜寒。
起舞弄清影，
何似在人间。


转朱阁，
低绮户，
照无眠。
不应有恨，
何事长向别时圆？
人有悲欢离合，
月有阴晴圆缺，
此事古难全。
但愿人长久，
千里共婵娟。
Prelude to Water Melody
Su Shi


How long will the full moon appear?
Wine cup in hand, I ask the sky.
I do not know what time of the year
’T would be tonight in the palace on high.
Riding the wind, there I would fly,
Yet I’m afraid the crystalline palace would be
Too high and cold for me.
I rise and dance, with my shadow I play.
On high as on earth, would it be as gay?


The moon goes round the mansions red
Through gauze-draped window soft to shed
Her light upon the sleepless bed.
Against man she should have no spite.
Why then when people part, is the oft full and bright?
Men have sorrow and joy; they part or meet again;
The moon is bright or dim and she may wax or wane.
There has been nothing perfect since the olden days.
So let us wish that man
Will live long as he can!
Though miles apart, we’ll share the beauty she displays.


（许渊冲、许明 译）


2《念奴娇·赤壁怀古》
大江东去，
浪淘尽，
千古风流人物。
故垒西边，
人道是、
三国周郎赤壁。
乱石穿空，
惊涛拍岸，
卷起千堆雪。
江山如画，
一时多少豪杰！


遥想公瑾当年，
小乔初嫁了，
雄姿英发。
羽扇纶巾，
谈笑间、
樯橹灰飞烟灭。
故国神游，
多情应笑我，
早生华发。
人生如梦，
一尊还酹江月。
Tune: “The Charms of Niannu”
Su Shi


The waves of the mighty river flowing eastward
Have swept away the brilliant figures of a thousand generations.
West of the old fortress,
So people say, is Lord Zhou’s Red Cliff in the time of the Three Kingdoms.
The tumbling rocks thrust into the air;
The roaring surges dash upon the shore,
Rolling into a thousand drifts of snow.
The River and the mountains make a vivid picture—
What a host of heroes once were!


And I recall the young Lord then,
Newly married to the fair younger Qiao,
His valorous features shown forth;
With a feather fan and a silken cap
Amid talking and laughing he put his enemy’s ships to ashes and smoke.
While my thoughts wander in the country of old,
Romantic persons might smile at my early grey hair.
Ah, life is but like a dream;
With a cup of wine, let me yet pour a libation to the moon on the river.


（初大告 译）

3《定风波·莫听穿林打叶声》
三月七日沙湖道中遇雨。雨具先去，同行皆狼狈，余独不觉。已而遂晴，故作此。

莫听穿林打叶声，
何妨吟啸且徐行。
竹杖芒鞋

轻胜马，
谁怕？
一蓑烟雨任平生。


料峭春风吹酒醒，
微冷，
山头斜照却相迎。
回首向来萧瑟处，
归去，
也无风雨也无晴。
Calming the Waves
Su Shi


Listen not to the rain beating against the trees.
Why don’t you slowly walk and chant at ease?
Better than saddled horse I like sandals and cane.
O I would fain
Spend a straw-cloaked life in mist and rain.


Drunken, I’m sobered by vernal wind shrill
And rather chill.
In front I see the slanting sun atop the hill;
Turning my head, I see the dreary beaten track.
Let me go back!
Impervious to wind, rain or shine, I’ll have my will.


4《前赤壁赋》
壬戌之秋，七月既望，苏子与客泛舟，游于赤壁之下。清风徐来，水波不兴。举酒属客，诵明月之诗，歌窈窕之章。少焉，月出于东山之上，徘徊于斗牛之间。白露横江，水光接天。纵一苇之所如，凌万顷之茫然。浩浩乎如冯虚御风，而不知其所止；飘飘乎如遗世独立，羽化而登仙。
于是饮酒乐甚，扣舷而歌之。歌曰：“桂棹兮兰桨，击空明兮泝流光。渺渺兮予怀，望美人兮天一方。”客有吹洞箫者，倚歌而和之。其声呜呜然，如怨如慕，如泣如诉；余音嫋嫋，不绝如缕。舞幽壑之潜蛟，泣孤舟之嫠妇。
苏子愀然，正襟危坐而问客曰：“何为其然也？”客曰：“月明星稀，乌鹊南飞，此非曹孟德之诗乎？西望夏口，东望武昌，山川相缪，郁乎苍苍，此非孟德之困于周郎者乎？方其破荆州，下江陵，顺流而东也，舳舻千里，旌旗蔽空，酾酒临江，横槊赋诗，固一世之雄也，而今安在哉？况吾与子渔樵于江渚之上，侣鱼鰕而友麋鹿，驾一叶之扁舟，举匏樽以相属。寄蜉蝣于天地，渺沧海之一粟。哀吾生之须臾，羡长江之无穷。挟飞仙以遨游，抱明月而长终。知不可乎骤得，托遗响于悲风。”
苏子曰：“客亦知夫水与月乎？逝者如斯，而未尝往也；盈虚者如彼，而卒莫消长也。盖将自其变者而观之，则天地曾不能以一瞬；自其不变者而观之，则物与我皆无尽也，而又何羡乎？且夫天地之间，物各有主，苟非吾之所有，虽一毫而莫取。惟江之清风，与山间之明月，耳得之而为声，目遇之而成色；取之无禁，用之不竭。是造物者之无尽藏也，而吾与子之所共适。”
客喜而笑，洗盏更酌。肴核既尽，杯盘狼藉。相与枕藉乎舟中，不知东方之既白。


First Visit to the Red Cliff
Su Shi
In the autumn of the year Renxu, at the time of the full moon in the seventh month, I went by boat with some friends to the Red Cliff. There was a fresh, gentle breeze, but the water was unruffled. I raised my winecup to drink to my friends, and we chanted the poem on the bright moon, singing the stanza about the fair maid. Soon t

he moon rose above the eastern mountain, hovering between the Dipper and the Cowherd. The river stretched white, sparkling as if with dew, its glimmering water merging with the sky. We let our craft drift over the boundless expanse of water, feeling as free as if we were riding the wind bound for some unknown destination, as light as if we had left the human world and become winged immortals. Drinking, we became very merry; and we sang a song, beating time on the side of the boat. This was the song:

Our rudder and oars, redolent of cassia and orchids;
Strike the moon's reflection, cleaving the glimmering water;
But my heart is far away,
Longing for my dear one under a different sky.



One friend, who was a good flutist, played an accompaniment to this song. The notes rang out nostalgic, mournful and plaintive, trailing on and on like a thread of gossamer, arousing the serpents lurking in dark caverns, drawing tears from a widow in her lonely boat. Sad at heart, I sat up straight to ask my friend why the music was so mournful.
He replied, “Didn't Cao Cao describe a scene like this in his poem: 'The moon is bright, the stars are scattered, the crows fly south...?' And isn't this the place where he was defeated by Zhou Yu? See how the mountains and streams intertwine, and how darkly imposing they are with Xiakou to the west and Wuchang to the east. When Cao Cao took Jingzhou by storm and conquered Jianging, then advanced eastward along the river, his battleships stretched for a thousand li, his armies' pennons and banners filled the sky. When he offered a libation of wine on the river and lance in hand chanted his poem, he was the hero of his times. But where is he now? We are mere fishermen and woodcutters, keeping company with fish and prawns and befriending deer. We sail our skiff, frail as a leaf, and toast each other by drinking wine from a gourd. We are nothing but insects who live in this world but one day, mere specks of grain in the vastness of the ocean. I am grieved because our life is so transient, and envy the mighty river which flows on forever. I long to clasp winged fairies and roam freely, or to embrace the bright moon for all eternity. But knowing that this cannot be attained at once, I give vent to my feelings in these notes which pass with the sad breeze.”
Then I asked him, “Have you considered the water and the moon? Water flows away but is never lost; the moon waxes and wanes, but neither increases nor diminished. If you look at its changing aspect, the universe passes in the twinkling of an eye; but if you look at its changeless aspect, all creatures including ourselves are imperishable. What reason have you to envy other things? Besides, everything in this universe has its owner; and if it does not belong to me not a tiny speck can I take. The sole exceptions are the cool breeze on the river, the bright moon over the hills. These serve as music to our ears, as colour to our eyes; th

ese we can take freely and enjoy forever; these are inexhaustible treasures supplied by the Creator, and things in which we can delight together.
My friend was pleased and laughed. Then we rinsed our cups and filled them with wine again. When we had finished the dishes, and cups and plates lay about us in disorder, we stretched out in the boat and did not notice the coming of dawn in the east.

（杨宪益、戴乃迭 译）


5《后赤壁赋》
是岁十月之望，步自雪堂，将归于临皋。二客从予过黄泥之坂。霜露既降，木叶尽脱。人影在地，仰见明月，顾而乐之，行歌相答。已而叹曰：“有客无酒，有酒无肴，月白风清，如此良夜何！”客曰：“今者薄暮，举网得鱼，巨口细鳞，状如松江之鲈。顾安所得酒乎？”归而谋诸妇。妇曰：“我有斗酒，藏之久矣，以待子不时之需。”
于是携酒与鱼，复游于赤壁之下。江流有声，断岸千尺；山高月小，水落石出。曾日月之几何，而江山不可复识矣！予乃摄衣而上，履巉岩，披蒙茸，踞虎豹，登虬龙，攀栖鹘之危巢，俯冯夷之幽宫。盖二客不能从焉。划然长啸，草木震动，山鸣谷应，风起水涌。予亦悄然而悲，肃然而恐，凛乎其不可留也。反而登舟，放乎中流，听其所止而休焉。
时夜将半，四顾寂寥。适有孤鹤，横江东来，翅如车轮，玄裳缟衣，戛然长鸣，掠予舟而西也。须臾客去，予亦就睡。梦一道士，羽衣蹁跹，过临皋之下，揖予而言曰：“赤壁之游乐乎？”问其姓名，俯而不答。“呜呼！噫嘻！我知之矣。畴昔之夜，飞鸣而过我者，非子也邪？”道士顾笑，予亦惊寤。开户视之，不见其处
The Second Trip to the Red Cliffs
Su Shih
In the same year on the 15th of the moon, I was walking back from the Snow Hall to the Ling Kao Tower, accompanied by two guests. We passed over the yellow muddy slope. The dew and frost had begun to fall, the tree-leaves had all shed. Human shadows were casting on the ground. We saw the bright moon up in the sky. Being filled with joy at this, we sang in response to one another as we walked along. Then I heaved a sigh, saying: “Either we have guests but no wine; or we have wine but no delicacies. The moon is bright, the air is refreshing; what shall we do with such a beautiful night?” One of the guests said: “This evening we cast net, and got some fish with big mouth and fine scales like the perch of the Pine river; but where shall we obtain wine?” Upon reaching home I discussed with my wife, and she said: “I have one peck of wine which I have stored long for your casual need.” Then with wine and fish we took another trip below the Red Cliffs. the flowing river gave a murmuring sound. The cliffs on the riverside rose to a height of one thousand feet. The moon appeared small above the high mountains, and the rocks exposed the

ir bases as the water fell low. It was only a few months since; now the mountain and river were hardly recognizable!
Holding up my robe I went ashore, trod over the rugged rocks and made way through the entwining thickets. I seated myself upon the tiger-shaped rocks, or climbed upon the dragon-like trees; got up to the lofty nest of the perching falcon, or overlooked the deep darkish palace of Neptune: my guests could hardly follow up. I made a long sharp whistle. The grass and trees trembled. The mountains and valleys rang with echoes. The wind rose and the water surged. I felt so sad at heart and sorely afraid that, being terror-struck, I could stay no longer. Then we returned to the boat, got to the midstream, and let it rest where it listed.
Shortly before midnight when all was still around, behold, there came a lone crane across the river from the east. it had two wings like cart-wheels, with the lower part in blue and the upper part in white. The bird gave a long cackle as it flitted past our boat to the west. Soon the guests departed, and I also went to sleep. I dreamed of a Taoist who, clad in feather robe, moved glidingly below the Ling Kao Tower. He addressed me with a salute, and asked me if I had a pleasant trip at the Red Cliffs. I asked his name, but he bending his head would not answer me. “Ah! I understand.” I said, “Last night was it not you that flew singing past me?” The Taoist smiled as he looked at me, and I was also aroused from sleep with a start. I opened the door and looked about, but there was no such place to be seen.

（潘正英 译）