絺綌虽凄其，授衣尚未至。 感节良已深，怀古亦云思。 不有千里棹，孰申百代意。 远协尚子心，遥得许生计。 既及冷风善，又即秋水驶。 江山共开旷，云日相照媚。 景夕群物清，对玩咸可憙。
In Hsin-An, Setting out from the
River’s Mouth at T’ung-Lu Hsieh
Ling-yün
Cold
cutting through thin openwork robes and
not yet time for gifts of winter clothes:
this
season always pitches me into depths all
grief-clotted thoughts of ancient times.
I’ll
never sail on thousand-mile oars again or
think through the hundred generations,
but
Master Shang’s distant mind my own now,
and old Master Hsu’s recluse ways,
I
wander these winds boundless and clear, and
the headlong rush of autumn streams.
Rivers
and mountains open way through that
alluring luster cloud and sun share,
and
when twilight’s clarity infuses it all, I
savor a joy things themselves know here.
（David Hinton 译） |
/1 
