《人间词话》英译（一百二十八）

王君静安将刊其所为《人间词》，诒书告余曰：“知我词者莫如子，叙之亦莫如子宜。”余与君处十年矣。比年以来，君颇以词自娱。余虽不能词，然喜读词，每夜漏始下，一灯荧然，玩古人之作，未尝不与君共。君成一阕，易一字，未尝不以讯余。既而睽离，苟有所作，未尝不邮以示余也。然则余于君之词，又乌可以无言乎！

夫自南宋以后，斯道之不振久矣！元明及国初诸老，非无警句也。然不免乎局促者，气困于雕琢也。嘉道以后之词，非不谐美也，然无救于浅薄者，意竭于摹拟也。

君之于词，于五代喜李后主、冯正中，于北宋喜永叔、子瞻、少游、美成，于南宋除稼轩、白石外，所嗜盖鲜矣。尤痛诋梦窗、玉田。谓梦窗砌字，玉田垒句，一雕琢，一敷衍。其病不同，而同归于浅薄。六百年来词之不振，实自此始。其持论如此。

及读君自所为词，则诚往复幽咽，动摇人心。快而沈，直而能曲。不屑屑于言词之末，而名句间出，殆往往度越前人。至其言近而指远，意决而辞婉，自永叔以后，殆未有工如君者也。君始为词时，亦不自意其至此，而卒至此者，天也，非人之所能为也。若夫观物之微，托兴之深，则又君诗词之特色。求之古代作者，罕有伦比。呜呼！不胜古人，不足以与古人并，君其知之矣。世有疑余言者乎，则何不取古人之词，与君词比类而观之也。

光绪丙午三月，山阴樊志厚叙。

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When Wang Ching-an was getting ready to publish his Jen-chien tz’u he wrote to me, ‘No one understands my tz’u better than you and no one is more qualified to discuss them.’ I have been associated with Ching-an for ten years and over the years he has found the writing of tz’u a form of great pleasure. Even though I cannot write tz’u myself, I am very fond of reading them. Every evening after dark as I browsed over the works of the ancients by lamplight, I was always in the company of Ching-an. When he finished a verse or changed a word he always asked my opinion. An even after we were separated, whatever he wrote he always sent me a copy. For his reason, how could I have nothing to say about his tz’u?

Since the Southern Sung it has been a long time since the true Way has stirred the world. The various poets of the Yuan, Ming, and early Ch’ing all had some striking lines but not being able to break out of the restraints imposed by style they exhausted their vital force in cutting and polishing. There is not a tz’u since the period around 1800 that is not charming, but poets have not been able to save themselves from superficiality, their intent becoming exhausted in imitating other.

Concerning Ching-an’s appreciation of tz’u: in the Five Dynasties he is most fond of Li Yu and Feng Yen-ssu; in the Northern Sung he is most fond of Ouyang Hsiu, Su Shih, Ch’in Kuan, and Chou Pang-yen; in the Southern Sung he has little taste for any but Hsin Ch’i-chi and Chiang K’uei. He is most critical of Wu Wen-ying and Chang Yen, in saying that the former treated characters like a pile of bricks while the latter made stonework out of lines. The one cut and polished, the other overflowed with superfluous words their shortcomings were different but they both ended up being superficial. The substance of his criticism is that the failure of tz’u to stir the world for the last six hundred years really began in the period.

But when we read Ching-an’s tz’u, we find that they are a cry from the depths of the heart, extremely moving. They are light yet profound, direct yet capable of innuendo. He does not fuss over the fine details of words and yet eminent lines are easily produced, and he frequently surpasses earlier poets. And when we consider how he combines immediacy of diction with far-reaching range of intent, decisive meaning with delicate phrase, he has not been equaled since Ouyang Hsiu. When Ching-an began to write tz’u he had no idea that he would achieve such heights. His success is not due to human ability but is divinely inspired. Special characteristics of his poetry are a subtlety in perception of objects and profundity in reliance on inspiration. There is hardly an ancient writer who can compare with him. Alas! It is Ching-an’s feeling that he can in no way compete with the ancients. But if the world doubts my words, just place his poems beside those of the ancients for comparison!

                                               1906. 3^rd month

                                               Shan-yin, Fan Chih-hou