醉翁亭记翻译和译文 醉翁亭记翻译和原文 醉翁楼记原文及译文( 二 )


The Story of the Old Drunkard Tower
Ou-yang Hsiu
The prefecture of Chu is surrounded with hills on all sides. The wooded ravines of the south-west peaks are particularly beautiful. Lo, there is Lang Ya Hill shrouded in deep, luxuriant blue. After a few miles' walk in the mountains, the murmur of a stream will gradually come within hearing — that is the Brewing Fountain pouring down between two peaks. By turning round the peak along a bending path there appears a tower standing like a perching bird above the fountain — that is the Old Drunkard Tower. Who built the tower? A Buddhist monk, the Wise Immortal. Who gave it the name? The Prefect refers to himself. The Prefect comes to drink here with his guests. Only a little drinking will make him drunk; and being the eldest he therefore calls himself the old drunkard. The old drunkard is not interested in the wine, but in the hills and rivers. The joy of hills and rivers, found in the heart, mingles itself with the wine.
To illustrate, the sunrise dispersing the mists over the woods, and the return of clouds dimming the caves below the rocks — this is the alteration of light and shade, which represents the morning and evening in the mountains. Sweet smell emitting from the fresh wild grass; luxuriant shades made by the fine trees; the high, clear skies, windy and frosty; rocks standing out of receding water — these are the changes of the four seasons in the mountains. Going out in the morning and coming back in the evening, one finds each of the four seasons has its different scenery, and the pleasure is inexhaustible.
As for the carriers on the road, the wayfarers taking rest under the trees, some shouting ahead and some score behind, and others bent with burdens going to and fro without a break — these are visitors from Chu itself. To angle at the stream where the stream is deep and the fishes are fat; to brew the fountain water into wine where the water is delicious and the wine is clear; and with mountain game and wild vegetable placed before him in a confused manner — that is the Prefect at banquet. The pleasure of revelry is music neither of string, no of bamboo. The shooters hitting the marks; the chess-players scoring victory; winecups and counters mixed together; and people sitting down and rising up with much noise — the guests are happy and merry. And amidst the crowd a man with a sallow face and white hair, being hardly able to stand firm — that is the Prefect made drunk.
Soon the sun touching the mountain, and the shadows of men being scattered in confusion — the Prefect, followed by his guests, is going back. In the shades of the groves warbling is heard up and down — the birds are enjoying themselves after the departure of the visitors. The birds enjoy mountains and woods, but understand not the pleasure of men; and men enjoy the pleasure of following the Prefect in excursion, but they know not what pleasure the Prefect enjoys. He who shares their pleasures in drunkenness, and when awake can relate it in writing — this is the Prefect. Who is the Prefect? — Ou-yang Hsiu of Lu Ling.
(潘正英 译)
The Pavilion of the Drunken Old Man
Ouyang Xiu
Chu Zhou is surrounded with mountains. The forests and valleys on the southwest ridge are especially beautiful. Lying in the distance, where the trees grow luxuriantly and gracefully, is the Langya Mountain. Six or seven li up the mountain path, a gurgling sound grows clearer and clearer. It is from a spring that falls between two mountains. The spring is called the Wine-Making Spring. The path turns and twists along the mountain ridge, and above the spring rests a pavilion perching aloft like a bird with wings outstretched. This is the Pavilion of the Drunken Old Man. Who built this pavilion? Monk Zhixian, who lived in the mountain. And who furnished it with that name? It was the prefect, who named it after his own alias. The prefect often comes here to drink wine with his friends and he easily gets tipsy after a few cups. Being oldest in age among his companions, he calls himself "the drunken old man". The drinker's heart is not in the cup, but in the mountains and waters. The joy he gets from them is treasured in the heart, and now and then he will express it through wine-drinking.
In the morning, the rising sun disperses the forest mists, and in the evening, the gathering clouds darken the caves and valleys. This shifting from light to darkness is morning and evening in the mountains. In spring, blooming flowers send forth a delicate fragrance; in summer, the flourishing trees afford deep shades; in autumn, the sky is high and crisp, and the frost, snowy white; in winter, the water of the creek recedes and the bare bedrock emerges. These are the mountain scenes in the four seasons. Going to the mountain in the morning and returning home in the evening and enjoying the beauties of the mountain in different seasons is a delight beyond description!
Carriers are singing all along the way, and pedestrians are taking rest beneath the trees. Some are shouting from the fore and are answered by others from behind. There are hunchbacked old folks, and children led by their elders. They are people from Chuzhou who have come here in an endless stream. Some are fishing by the creek where the water is deep and the fish are big. The water itself is faintly scented and the wine brewed from it is crystal clear. Upon the prefect's banquet table is a sundry layer of dishes, including the meat of wild beasts and the flavorings of edible mountain herbs. The joy of the feast lies not in the musical accompaniment of strings or flutes, but in winning the games, such as throwing arrows into the vessel, or chess playing. Wine cups and gambling chips lay scattered in blithe disarray. The revelers, now sitting, now standing, cavort madly among themselves. These are the prefect's guests, and the old man with wizened face and white hair among them, who is half drunk, is none other than the prefect himself.