詩人: 韓愈 Han Yu
 山石
升堂坐階新雨足，芭蕉葉大梔子肥。
僧言古壁佛畫好，以火來照所見稀。
鋪床拂席置羹飯，疏糲亦足飽我饑。
夜深靜臥百蟲絶，清月出嶺光入扉。
天明獨去無道路，出入高下窮煙霏。
山紅澗碧紛爛漫，時見鬆櫪皆十圍。
當流赤足蹋澗石，水聲激激風吹衣。
人生如此自可樂，豈必局束為人靰！
嗟哉吾黨二三子，安得至老不更歸！
Rough were the mountain-stones, and the path very narrow;
And when I reached the temple, bats were in the dusk.
I climbed to the hall, sat on the steps, and drank the rain- washed air
Among the round gardenia-pods and huge bananaleaves.
On the old wall, said the priest, were Buddhas finely painted,
And he brought a light and showed me, and I called them wonderful
He spread the bed, dusted the mats, and made my supper ready,
And, though the food was coarse, it satisfied my hunger.
At midnight, while I lay there not hearing even an insect,
The mountain moon with her pure light entered my door....
At dawn I left the mountain and, alone, lost my way:
In and out, up and down, while a heavy mist
Made brook and mountain green and purple, brightening everything.
I am passing sometimes pines and oaks, which ten men could not girdle,
I am treading pebbles barefoot in swift-running water --
Its ripples purify my ear, while a soft wind blows my garments....
These are the things which, in themselves, make life happy.
Why should we be hemmed about and hampered with people?
O chosen pupils, far behind me in my own country,
What if I spent my old age here and never went back home? |