苏轼 《前赤壁赋》

Prose: Chi Bi (Red Wall)

　　July 16, 1082. I go rowing with my friends under Chi Bi. Breeze is blowing, and river is in peace. I take the goblet, drinking with my friends and read the poems. After a while, moon raises up from east hill and roam between constellations. The river shrouded by white fog, it’s seems connected with the sky. I let the boat drift with the running water, float on the surface of the river. The river is long, the boat seems fly in the air, don’t know where to stop. I feel like an angel in the heaven, separated from earth.

　　I feel very happy when I’m drinking the wine, then I knocked on the boat and sang the songs. “Quant is the made of cheery bay, beats the clear water, rowing against the stream with the moon light. My mind is far away, think about the beautiful lady far from me.” One of my friends can play tung-hsiao, he played it to accompany my song. It sounds sob and grudge, after he finished, the sound is still there, like the slender line never ends. This sound, can awake the dragon which hide in the abyss, and let the widow cry. I feel a bit sad, and ask him why he playing the sad sound. He answered: “Moon is shining but stars are few, the crow is fly to the south. This is just the poem of CaoCao. The west from here is XiaKou, and east is WuChang. At here the water is around the hill, and vert is flourish. Here is just the place that ZhouYu defeated CaoCao. When he occupied JingZhou, JiangLing, and go farther east along the river, the warship linked a thousand km, the flags covered the sky. He drank the wine beside the river, and reads the poem. He was the hero, but where is him now? You and me live at the land in the river, fishing and chopping wood. We live with the fish and elk, rowing a little boat, and drinking. Spend our short life under on the earth, we are very tiny just like one grained wheat in the ocean. Bemoaned our short life, envy the endless ChangJiang rive. I hope travel with angel, and survive with the moon. I know this hope is never be true, I had to put my emotion into the sound and play in the cold wind.”

　　I said to my friend: “Do you know the argument of water and moon? The water seems flow away, but actually it’s still there. The moon sometimes is wane, but it’s never reduce. If you consider the changes, everything in the world aren’t remain same. But if you see things in case of constant, things like us are never, what can we envy about? In the world, everything has a owner, if something is not belong to us, don’t take them even a little. Only the wind on the river and the moon between the hills, you can hear the sound and see the colour. They are the treasure of the nature, no one can stop us, we can have them forever.” My friend smiles, clean the goblet, and continue to drink. Fruits are gone, cups and plates are everywhere. We sleep on the boat, the sunlight is shining at east but no one noticed.

苏轼 《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。

 

Boating at the Red Cliff
Su Shi

In the seventhmonth of the year Renxu, when an autumnal full moon was just a little onthewane, I, Su Shi, went boating with my guests in the river near the Red Cliff. Afresh breezewas blowing our way and the waves were utterly calm. I raised mywinecup and toasted myguests, joining them in chanting the Ode to the BrightMoon and the Song of Sylphs. A littlelater, the moon rose above the easternhills, loitering between the mansions of the Dipper andthe Ox. A broad stretchof dewy white lay across the river. The sheen of the waters merged withthehues of the sky. The boat, once set adrift, traversed an immense expanse ofthousands ofhectares. What an ecstasy! It was as if we were harnessing thewind, riding through theethereal vacant space, not knowing when to come to hahalt, while the divine joy was as if wewere forsaking the world and becomingwinged deities, ascending to the land of immortals.

Then we drankwine, and feeling exhilarated, tapped the gunwale and sang the song: "O yeoarsof laurel and orchid, strike and pierce ye the lambent and limpid waters, andbrave ye themoon-lit swift currents. Unbounded is my mind, longing for the manin my heart who isbeyond the horizon." A Xiao player among the guestsaccompanied the song, which produced awoeful tune, now like someone murmuringand languishing for love, now like someone sobbingand complaining. Thelingering sound was as unbroken as silk, capable of stirring a dragonhidden inan abyss to dance and moving a widow in a solitary boat to weep.

Saddened by themelancholy song, I sat tight and asked the guests, "Why was your musicsodisconsolate?"

The guest said,"The moon is bright, the stars are far between, and the crows aresouthwardbound.' Is this not the poem of Cao Mengde? You see Xiakou in the westandWuchang in the east. The hills and rivers are interlinked and enshrouded in asomber green.Is it not where Cao was besieged by Zhou Yu? At that time, Caotook Jingzhou, seized Jiangling,then sailed eastward down the Yangtze River,with ships in battle array, extending a thousandli, their flags and pennantseclipsing the sunlight. He filled his winecup before the rolling river,andholding his spear in both hands, composed and declaimed his poems. He wasindeed thehero of his time. But where is he now? As for you and me, we merelydo fishing and firewood-cutting in the river and on its islets, associatingwith fish and shrimps, and making friends withreindeer. We row a boat, toasteach other, depositing our ephemeral life in the universe, ourbeing asinfinitely small as a grain in the ocean. Lamenting our fleeting existence andenvying theeverlasting Yangtze River, I wish I could travel with fairies inheaven and hold the bright moon inmy arms through eternity. Yet I know thiscannot so soon come true, I can but charge the sadautumn wind to be thevehicle of my plaintive music."

I said, "Haveyou ever speculated upon the river and the moon? Though the former runswithoutcease, it remains there forever. Though the latter waxes and wanes, it neverincreases ordiminishes. If it is viewed from the angle of change, the universecan hardly be the same for amoment. However, when seen from the angle ofconstancy, then everything and we ourselvesare blessed with immortality. Whatcould so much deserve our envy? Besides, all things underheaven have theirseparate owners. If a thing does not belong to me, not even a mite of itshouldbe taken as mine. Only the refreshing breeze on the river and the bright moonover thehills, which generate in our ears a pleasant sound and in our eyes adreamy colour, areinexhaustible and can be freely enjoyed. They are animmeasurable treasure granted to us byour Creator as a grace, for our commonhappiness."

My guests weregladdened and smiled. Having cleaned the winecups, we renewed ourdrinking. Thedishes, fruits and tidbits were all consumed. The trays, plates and drinkingvesselswere scattered in confusion. We slept close to each other in the boat,unaware that it wasdawning in the east.