《琵琶行》——唐 · 白居易（中英对译）
《琵琶行》作者：唐 ·白居易英译： 阿九朗读： 阿九琵琶行并序 / 琵琶引 元和十年，予左迁九江郡司马。明年秋，送客湓浦口，闻舟中夜弹琵琶者，听其音，铮铮然有京都声。问其人，本长安倡女，尝学琵琶于穆、曹二善才，年长色衰，委身为贾人妇。遂命酒，使快弹数曲。曲罢悯然，自叙少小时欢乐事，今漂沦憔悴，转徙于江湖间。予出官二年，恬然自安，感斯人言，是夕始觉有迁谪意。因为长句，歌以赠之，凡六百一十六言，命曰《琵琶行》。 浔阳江头夜送客，枫叶荻花秋瑟瑟。主人下马客在船，举酒欲饮无管弦。醉不成欢惨将别，别时茫茫江浸月。忽闻水上琵琶声，主人忘归客不发。寻声暗问弹者谁，琵琶声停欲语迟。移船相近邀相见，添酒回灯重开宴。千呼万唤始出来，犹抱琵琶半遮面。转轴拨弦三两声，未成曲调先有情。弦弦掩抑声声思，似诉平生不得志。低眉信手续续弹，说尽心中无限事。轻拢慢捻抹复挑，初为《霓裳》后《六幺》。大弦嘈嘈如急雨，小弦切切如私语。嘈嘈切切错杂弹，大珠小珠落玉盘。间关莺语花底滑，幽咽泉流冰下难。冰泉冷涩弦凝绝，凝绝不通声渐歇。别有幽愁暗恨生，此时无声胜有声。银瓶乍破水浆迸，铁骑突出刀枪鸣。曲终收拨当心画，四弦一声如裂帛。In the evening sending off a guest by the Xunyang river; in the crisp autumn air, maple leaves and silvergrass shiver.The host dismounts his horse and the guest boards the boat; with no lively music to entertain, we raise a sorry toast.Unable to exult together one last time; we part ways in the sallow white field of moonlight.Over the water comes the sound of a pipa; the guest forgets to depart, the host stalls his horse.In the dark we search for the source of the music; the player ceases but hesitates to respond.We pull the boat near, extend an invitation to meet; wine once more flows, lanterns once more lit.Cajoling and convincing, we coax her into sight; from behind her pipa, she emerges into the lightShe plucks out a few notes, melody yet to bloom; at first only emotions without a tune.String by string, notes suffused with reverie; as if speaking of dreams unfulfilled, a life’s memory.Eyes lowered, her hands effortlessly dart; expressing that which weighs on her heart.Gather, twist, press and pluck; playing first “Ni Chang” and then “Liu Yao”.Large strings patter like the pouring rain; small strings tiptoe like a whispered refrain.Patter and tiptoe alternate; like pearls dropping onto a jade plate.Sometimes like the chirp of a golden finch from beneath the flower; sometimes like the sluggish flow of water under the frozen spring.The icy notes crawl slowly to freeze, suspending in the air for a pause.In the air a trace of anguish hangs, silence is better than when the pipa sang.Notes burst out like water out of a shattered glass; like the roar of warhorses and clamour of swords in battle.The piece ends with a strumming across the strings, striking a chord like the tearing of silk.Across the boats there is not a single sound, only the shine of moonlight in the water’s center.With a sigh she tucks the pick between the strings, smoothing down her robes and composing herself.She says, “I spent my girlhood in the capital, living by the end of the Hama District.At thirteen I studied pipa, ranking in the first division of my class.My skill invited the masters’ admiration, my beauty made the loveliest ladies jealous.The wealthy youths fought to shower me with riches, a single tune wrought numerous brocades.Shattering intricate hairpieces by beating rhythms, soiling crimson silk dresses with spilled wine.One year blurs into the next with careless laughter, spring breeze follows autumn moon, years passing unseen.My younger brother was drafted and my auntie passed, as days and nights drifted by my beauty faded.My doorstep was cold and empty, no suitors riding forth; and so this one married, becoming a merchant’s wife.My husband values profit and cares not for separation, last month he went to Fuliang to purchase tea,Leaving me to watch the boat at the rivermouth, surrounded by chilling waters under the lucent moon. 东船西舫悄无言，唯见江心秋月白。沉吟放拨插弦中，整顿衣裳起敛容。自言本是京城女，家在虾蟆陵下住。十三学得琵琶成，名属教坊第一部。曲罢曾教善才服，妆成每被秋娘妒。五陵年少争缠头，一曲红绡不知数。钿头银篦击节碎，血色罗裙翻酒污。今年欢笑复明年，秋月春风等闲度。弟走从军阿姨死，暮去朝来颜色故。门前冷落鞍马稀，老大嫁作商人妇。商人重利轻别离，前月浮梁买茶去。去来江口守空船，绕船月明江水寒。夜深忽梦少年事，梦啼妆泪红阑干。Last night I dreamt of my golden youth, and woke to the dried tracks of tears on my face.”I had sighed deeply at the pipa’s haunting sound, and yet lamented ever more at her tale.Two people like us cast to the edge of the world by fate, need not be old friends to share this desolation.I was demoted from the imperial courts last year, to be made magistrate to the decrepit Xunyang Town.In a rural place like this, no music is to be enjoyed, for a year I have not heard songs of the refined instruments.Living in the wet lowlands near the river, wilted reeds and bitter bamboo fill my yard.And from morning to night, what is it I hear? ‘Tis the cuckoo’s wail and the monkeys’ screech.On fine spring mornings and bright autumn evenings, I could only morosely toast myself.There are indeed village folk tunes to be heard, yet they grate my ears with every note.To have heard the sound of your pipa tonight, is to have heard the music of heaven once more. 我闻琵琶已叹息，又闻此语重唧唧。同是天涯沦落人，相逢何必曾相识！我从去年辞帝京，谪居卧病浔阳城。浔阳地僻无音乐，终岁不闻丝竹声。住近湓江地低湿，黄芦苦竹绕宅生。其间旦暮闻何物？杜鹃啼血猿哀鸣。春江花朝秋月夜，往往取酒还 (huan2) 独倾。岂无山歌与村笛，呕哑嘲哳难为听。今夜闻君琵琶语，如听仙乐耳暂明。莫辞更坐弹一曲，为君翻作《琵琶行》。感我此言良久立，却坐促弦弦转急。凄凄不似向前声，满座重闻皆(jie1)掩泣。座中泣下谁最多？江州司马青衫湿。Please, sit down, play one more song; and I will compose for you a poem: the ballade of the pipa.She stood for a long while at my request, then sat back down and strummed the strings with vigour.This was not like any song she had played before, all who listened could not hold their tears.And who among these wept the most? This humble magistrate’s garb was soaked.
