I was bidding a guest farewell, at night on the Hsun-yang River,
Where maple-leaves and full-grown rushes rustled in the autumn.
I, the host, had dismounted, my guest had boarded his boat,
And we raised our cups and wished to drink -but, alas, there was no music.
For all we had drunk we felt no joy and were parting from each other,
When the river widened mysteriously toward the full moon -
We had heard a sudden sound, a guitar across the water.
Host forgot to turn back home, and guest to go his way.
We followed where the melody led and asked the player's name.
The sound broke off... then reluctantly she answered.
We moved our boat near hers, invited her to join us,
Summoned more wine and lanterns to recommence our banquet.
Yet we called and urged a thousand times before she started toward us,
Still hiding half her face from us behind her guitar.
...She turned the tuning-pegs and tested several strings;
We could feel what she was feeling, even before she played:
Each string a meditation, each note a deep thought,
As if she were telling us the ache of her whole life.
She knit her brows, flexed her fingers, then began her music,
Little by little letting her heart share everything with ours.
She brushed the strings, twisted them slow, swept them, plucked them -
First the air of The Rainbow Skirt, then The Six Little Ones.
The large strings hummed like rain,
The small strings whispered like a secret,
Hummed, whispered - and then were intermingled
Like a pouring of large and small pearls into a plate of jade.
We heard an oriole, liquid, hidden among flowers.
We heard a brook bitterly sob along a bank of sand.
By the checking of its cold touch, the very string seemed broken
As though it could not pass; and the notes, dying away
Into a depth of sorrow and concealment of lament,
Told even more in silence than they had told in sound
A silver vase abruptly broke with a gush of water,
And out leapt armoured horses and weapons that clashed and smote-
And, before she laid her pick down, she ended with one stroke,
And all four strings made one sound, as of rending silk . . . .
There was quiet in the east boat and quiet in the west,
And we saw the white autumnal moon enter the river's heart .
. . . When she had slowly placed the pick back among the strings,
She rose and smoothed her clothing and, formal, courteous,
Told us how she had spent her girlhood at the capital,
Living in her parents' house under the Mount of Toads,
And had mastered the guitar at the age of thirteen,
With her name recorded first in the class-roll of musicians,
Her art the admiration even of experts,
Her beauty the envy of all the leading dancers,
How noble youths of Wu-ling had lavishly competed
And numberless red rolls of silk been given for one song,
And silver combs with shell inlay been snapped by her rhythms,
And skirts the colour of blood been spoiled with stains of wine...
Season after season, joy had followed joy,
Autumn moons and spring winds had passed without her heeding,
Till first her brother left for the war, and then her aunt died,
And evenings went and evenings came, and her beauty faded -
With ever fewer chariots and horses at her door;
So that finally she gave herself as wife to a merchant
Who, prizing money first, careless how he left her,
Had gone, a month before, to Fou-liang to buy tea.
And she had been tending an empty boat at the river's mouth,
No company but the bright moon and the cold water.
And sometimes in the deep of night she would dream of her triumphs
And be wakened from her dreams by the scalding of her tears .
...Her very first guitar-note had started me sighing;
Now, having heard her story, I was sadder still.
"We are both unhappy - to the sky's end.
We meet. We understand. What does acquaintance matter?
I came, a year ago, away from the capital
And am now a sick exile here in Kiu-kiang -
And so remote is Kiu-kiang that I have heard no music,
Neither string nor bamboo, for a whole year.
My quarters, near the River Town, are low and damp,
With bitter reeds and yellowed rushes all about the house.
And what is to be heard here, morning and evening? -
The bleeding cry of cuckoos, the whimpering of apes.
On flowery spring mornings and moonlit autumn nights
I have often taken wine up and drunk it all alone,
Of course there are the mountain songs and the village pipes,
But they are crude and strident, and grate on my ears.
And tonight, when I heard you playing your guitar,
I felt as if my hearing were bright with fairy-music.
Do not leave us. Come, sit down. Play for us again.
And I will write you a ballad to the tune you have just sung."
Moved by what I said, she stood there for a moment,
Then sat again to her strings - and they sounded even sadder,
Although the tunes were different from those she had played before...
The feasters, all listening, covered their faces.
But who of them all was crying the most?
This Kiu-kiang official. My blue sleeve was wet.
Original Poem:
「琵琶行」
白居易
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，凝绝不通声暂歇。
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。
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。
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，满座重闻皆掩泣。
座中泣下谁最多？江州司马青衫湿。
Interpretation:
This poem was written in the fall of 816 A.D. during the poet's relegation to the post of Secretary of Jiujiang . Through the description of the pipa girl's excellent playing skills and her unfortunate experience, the poem exposes all kinds of irrational phenomena in the feudal society, expresses the poet's deep sympathy for her, and also expresses the poet's resentment towards his own innocence of being relegated.
The first paragraph is about the appearance of the pipa girl. This is a maple leaf red, dixie flower white, under the sepulchral autumn wind at night, the place is Xunyang's Jiangtou (today's Jiujiang City). At that time, the poet was sending off his friend, and the host accompanied the guest to the riverside on horseback, dismounting and coming to the boat together. Sound from the water floating over, is from the boat, the sound at once attracted the attention of the host and guests, they do not want to go away, back do not want to go back, they must explore to find out what this wonderful sound. Because it was nighttime, and because they heard only one sound, they did not know where the sound came from, nor did they know who the player was. They found the player, but the player was already discouraged, sinking into her own life, and she was no longer willing to show her face.
The second paragraph is about the pipa girl's great acting skills. Fourteen stanzas are used to describe the musical image of the pipa piece, writing that it goes from fast to slow, to weak, to silent, to a sudden storm, and then to the last stroke, which ends abruptly. The poet uses a series of vivid metaphors here, which turn the relatively abstract musical image into a visual image all of a sudden. Here there is a drop of jade plate of big pearl small pearl, there is a flow twitter flowers between between the warbler, there is a water flow under the ice of the silk fine, there is fine to no more “at this time no sound is better than sound”, there is a sudden rise of the silver bottle at first cracked, the iron rider jinggo, it makes the listener sometimes sad, sometimes soothing, sometimes relaxed, sometimes and thrilling. Everyone is listening to the fascination, the performance has ended, and the listener is still immersed in the realm of music, the surrounding silence, only the water reflects a round of bright moon.
The third paragraph writes about the pipa girl's life, describing her early years, when she had good luck and flourished for a while, but later she grew old, and drifted away and fell down. She is young and skillful, she is praised by the old generation of artists, and envied by the same generation of artists. The princes and gentlemen were enamored of her skill: they spent a great deal of money to have her play; and she herself indulged in luxury, and never knew what it meant to be sparing. Thus year after year the good times flowed away as quickly as water.
With her old age and color decline, the children of the aristocracy are no longer door to door, her only a few relatives have also scattered, she is like a pair of out-of-date shoes, no longer no one to see, no one wants, no choice but to marry a merchant. The merchant cared about making money, never understood art and emotion, he often went out alone, and left the poor woman to stay on the empty ship. People have memory, the face of today's loneliness and cold, think back to the beautiful years of the past, contrast, how can not let a person hurt!
The fourth paragraph is about the poet's feelings about his own life, and expresses his sympathy with the pipa woman. Write the poet since the relegation of the Jiujiang loneliness and loneliness, into the place of remoteness, the environment is poor, lifting up the eyes of sadness, a little happy to relieve boredom of things are not. The poet's sadness and bitterness is entirely due to his political blow caused, but this he can not say, and other heartbreaking pain will be pressed to the bottom of the heart. The lute woman was already reluctant to entertain the poet, but when she saw that he was so sincere and emotional, she tightened the strings and played a more sorrowful tune. This piece of music makes all the listeners all sigh into sound. What about the sentimental poet? Look at his green shirt has been wet through the front.
The narrative and lyricism of the poem are closely integrated, creating a complete and distinctive character image. With the characters as the main line, the poem not only vividly depicts the life of the pipa girl, but also delicately expresses the poet's inner feelings.
Poem translator:
Kiang Kanghu
About the poet:
Bai Juyi (白居易), 772-846 AD, was originally from Taiyuan, then moved to Weinan in Shaanxi. Bai Juyi was the most prolific poet of the Tang Dynasty, with poems in the categories of satirical oracles, idleness, sentimentality, and miscellaneous rhythms, and the most influential poet after Li Bai Du Fu.
