Texts — 前後赤壁賦 DSE

前赤壁賦

First Red Cliff Rhapsody

7th month, Yuanfeng 5 (≈ August 1082) · Transcendence, philosophical acceptance

R1 · P1

壬戌之秋，七月既望，蘇子與客泛舟，游於赤壁之下。清風徐來，水波不興。舉酒屬客，誦明月之詩，歌窈窕之章。少焉，月出於東山之上，徘徊於斗牛之間。白露橫江，水光接天。縱一葦之所如，凌萬頃之茫然。浩浩乎如馮虛御風，而不知其所止；飄飄乎如遺世獨立，羽化而登仙。

Watson · 1965

It was the autumn of the jen-hsü year, the sixteenth night of the seventh month. Master Su and his guests were boating beneath Red Cliff. A cool breeze blew gently; the water was calm and unruffled. Su raised his cup and offered wine to his guests, reciting the poem of the bright moon and singing the song of the graceful lady. Presently the moon rose above the eastern hills and lingered between the Dipper and the Ox. White dew lay across the river, and the glimmering water merged with the sky. We let the little boat go where it would, drifting over the measureless expanse of water. How boundless it was, as if we were riding the void with the wind as our steed, not knowing where we would stop; how airy and light, as if we had left the world behind, risen above it all, grown wings and become immortals!

Owen · 1996

It was autumn of the year jen-hsü, the night after the full moon of the seventh month. Su Tzu and his guests went boating beneath the Red Cliff. A cool breeze arose gently; the surface of the water was still. He raised his wine-cup and drank a toast to his guests, reciting the "Poem on the Bright Moon" and singing the stanza on the graceful woman. A little while later, the moon rose above the Eastern Mountain and lingered between the Dipper and the Ox. White mist lay across the river, and the shining water joined the sky. We drifted along in our small boat wherever we pleased, floating over the boundless expanse. How vast it was — as if riding the empty air with the wind, not knowing where to stop; how free — as if leaving the world behind, standing alone, becoming an immortal with wings ascending to heaven.

R1 · P2

於是飲酒樂甚，扣舷而歌之。歌曰：「桂棹兮蘭槳，擊空明兮溯流光。渺渺兮余懷，望美人兮天一方。」客有吹洞簫者，倚歌而和之。其聲嗚嗚然：如怨如慕，如泣如訴；餘音嫋嫋，不絕如縷，舞幽壑之潛蛟，泣孤舟之嫠婦。

Watson · 1965

So we drank merrily, and when we were well along with the wine, I tapped on the side of the boat and began to sing. The song went: "Cassia wood oar and orchid sweep, / Strike the moon's bright heart, row upstream on its shining! / Far and away my longings reach — / A beautiful one in a corner of sky." One of the guests, who played the flute, accompanied my song. The music wailed and sobbed, as though lamenting, as though reproaching; the lingering notes spun out like a slender thread that would not break, and moved the hidden dragons in their sunken lairs to dance, and the widow in her solitary boat to weep.

Owen · 1996

Then we were drinking merrily, and beating on the gunwale, we sang. The song went: "Cassia oars, magnolia sweeps, / strike the moon's reflection, row against the flowing light. / So far away are my longings, / gazing to one who is lovely in a corner of the sky." Among the guests was one who played the flute. He accompanied the singing. The music sobbed and wailed, with grief and longing; the lingering notes were tenuous as a thread and did not cease; they set the hidden dragons in the dark deep dancing and drew tears from a solitary widow in her boat.

R1 · P3

蘇子愀然，正襟危坐，而問客曰：「何為其然也？」客曰：「月明星稀，烏鵲南飛，此非曹孟德之詩乎？西望夏口，東望武昌，山川相繆，鬱乎蒼蒼；此非孟德之困於周郎者乎？方其破荊州，下江陵，順流而東也，舳艫千里，旌旗蔽空，釃酒臨江，橫槊賦詩，固一世之雄也，而今安在哉？況吾與子，漁樵於江渚之上，侶魚蝦而友麋鹿，駕一葉之扁舟，舉匏尊以相屬。寄蜉蝣於天地，渺滄海之一粟。哀吾生之須臾，羨長江之無窮。挾飛仙以遨遊，抱明月而長終。知不可乎驟得，托遺響於悲風。」

Watson · 1965

Su grew grave, straightened his robe, and sat up properly. "Why does the music sound so sad?" he asked. The guest replied: "'The moon is bright, the stars are few; crows and magpies fly south' — is this not a poem of Ts'ao Ts'ao? Looking west to Hsiak'ou, east to Wuch'ang — how the mountains and rivers wind around! When he had broken Ching-chou and sailed east with the current — a thousand ships in a line, banners blocking out the sky — he was indeed a hero of his time. And where is he now? And what of you and I, fishermen and woodcutters on the river's sandy shores, companions of the fish and shrimps and friends of the deer, sailing this single-leaf of a boat? We are but mayflies in heaven and earth, a single grain in the vast ocean. I grieve for the shortness of our lives and envy the endlessness of the great river. I would like to take the hand of the winged immortal and wander as he wanders, to embrace the bright moon and last forever. I know this cannot come suddenly. So I pour these lingering notes into the sad wind."

Owen · 1996

Su Tzu turned somber, adjusted his clothes and sat up straight, then asked the guest: "Why is the music like this?" The guest said: "'Bright is the moon, sparse are the stars, crows and magpies fly south' — is this not a poem of Cao Mengde? After he broke Jingzhou and sailed east with the current, a thousand warships in a row, banners blotting out the sky; he was truly a hero of his age — and where is he today? And what of you and me: fishermen and woodcutters on the sandbanks of the river, companions to fish and shrimp? I lament the briefness of my life, and envy the endless flow of the great river. I would grasp the hand of a flying immortal and roam with him, and embrace the bright moon and never end — but I know this cannot be obtained in a moment, and so I pour my lingering sounds into the mournful wind."

R1 · P4

蘇子曰：「客亦知夫水與月乎？逝者如斯，而未嘗往也；盈虛者如彼，而卒莫消長也。蓋將自其變者而觀之，則天地曾不能以一瞬；自其不變者而觀之，則物與我皆無盡也，而又何羨乎！且夫天地之間，物各有主，苟非吾之所有，雖一毫而莫取。惟江上之清風，與山間之明月，耳得之而為聲，目遇之而成色，取之無禁，用之不竭，是造物者之無盡藏也，而吾與子之所共適。」

Watson · 1965

"Do you know about the water and the moon?" Su asked. "The one flows by and yet never goes; the other waxes and wanes and yet in the end is neither larger nor smaller. If you look at things in terms of change, then there is nothing in heaven and earth that does not change in the blink of an eye. If you look at them in terms of changelessness, then all things, along with you and me, are without end. What is there to envy? Moreover, among the things in heaven and earth, each thing has its master, and if something is not mine, I would not take a hair of it. Only the clear wind on the river and the bright moon on the hills — these your ear hears and turns to sound, your eye encounters and makes into color; taking them you do not deplete them, using them you do not exhaust them. They are the inexhaustible treasury of the Creator, and you and I together may enjoy them freely."

Owen · 1996

Su Tzu said: "Do you know of the water and the moon? The one flows past and yet has never gone; the other waxes and wanes and yet in the end neither grows nor diminishes. If we look at things from the standpoint of their changing, then heaven and earth cannot last even the blink of an eye; if we look at them from the standpoint of their not changing, then both things and ourselves are without end. Furthermore, each thing in heaven and earth has its proper keeper — and if something is not mine, I would not take a single strand of it. Only the pure wind on the river and the bright moon between the hills — when the ear receives it, it becomes sound; when the eye meets it, it makes a color; you can take these without prohibition, use them and they are never exhausted. This is the inexhaustible treasury of the Creator, and it is here for you and me to enjoy together."

R1 · P5

客喜而笑，洗盞更酌。餚核既盡，杯盤狼藉，相與枕藉乎舟中，不知東方之既白。

Watson · 1965

The guest smiled with pleasure. We washed our cups and poured again. The delicacies had all been consumed, the cups and plates were in disorder. We lay sprawled against each other in the boat, not noticing when the eastern sky had already turned white.

Owen · 1996

The guest smiled and was pleased; we rinsed our cups and poured again. When the food and fruit were finished, cups and dishes lay scattered in disorder. We rested against each other in the boat, not realizing that it was already growing light in the east.

後赤壁賦

Second Red Cliff Rhapsody

10th month, Yuanfeng 5 (≈ November 1082) · The uncanny, the elegiac, the dream

R2 · P1

是歲十月之望，步自雪堂，將歸於臨皋。二客從予，過黃泥之坂。霜露既降，木葉盡脫，人影在地，仰見明月。顧而樂之，行歌相答。

Watson · 1965

That same year, on the night of the full moon of the tenth month, I walked from Hsueh Hall back toward Lin-kao. Two guests accompanied me. We passed through Yellow Mud Slope. Frost and dew had already fallen; the leaves of the trees were all gone. Our shadows fell on the ground and we looked up to see the bright moon. We gazed about us with pleasure, singing and answering each other's songs as we walked.

Owen · 1996

That same year, on the night of the full moon of the tenth month, I walked from Xuetang back toward Lingao. Two guests were with me. We crossed Yellow Mud Slope. Frost and dew had already fallen; all the leaves had been stripped from the trees. Our shadows lay on the ground, and we looked up to see the bright moon. We enjoyed the scene, walking along singing, answering each other in turn.

R2 · P2

已而歎曰：「有客無酒，有酒無肴，月白風清，此良夜之難虛也！」顧而謂二客曰：「今者薄暮，舉網得魚，巨口細鱗，狀似松江之鱸；顧安所得酒乎？」歸而謀諸婦。婦曰：「我有斗酒，藏之久矣，以待子不時之需。」於是攜酒與魚，復游於赤壁之下。

Watson · 1965

Then one of us sighed and said, "We have guests but no wine; and if we had wine, there is no food to go with it. The moon is white, the breeze is cool — what a pity to let such a fine night pass!" I agreed and said, "This evening at dusk I cast my net and caught a fish with a big mouth and fine scales — something like the perch of Sung-chiang. But where can we get wine?" We went home and consulted my wife. She said, "I have a jug of wine I've been saving for some time against an emergency." So we took the wine and fish and went back to sail beneath Red Cliff.

Owen · 1996

After a while one of them sighed and said: "We have guests but no wine; we have wine but no food. The moon is white and the breeze is cool — can we just let this fine night pass for nothing?" I thought this over and said: "At dusk today I cast my net and caught a fish with a big mouth and fine scales — like the perch of Songjiang. But where can we get wine?" We went back to consult my wife. She said: "I have a pint of wine I've been keeping for a long time now, in case you might have an unexpected need." And so we took the wine and fish and went back to roam beneath Red Cliff.

R2 · P3

江流有聲，斷岸千尺，山高月小，水落石出。曾日月之幾何，而江山不可復識矣！

Watson · 1965

The river was rushing and roaring, the banks were sheer and a thousand feet high, the mountains were tall and the moon tiny, the water fallen and rocks showing. How many days and months had it been — and the rivers and hills were unrecognizable!

Owen · 1996

The river flowed with sound; the sheer banks rose a thousand feet; the mountains were high and the moon small; the water had receded and rocks appeared. How many days and months had it been? — and the rivers and mountains were unrecognizable.

R2 · P4

予乃攝衣而上，履巉岩，披蒙茸，踞虎豹，登虬龍，攀棲鶻之危巢，俯馮夷之幽宮。蓋二客不能從焉。劃然長嘯，草木震動，山鳴谷應，風起水涌。予亦悄然而悲，肅然而恐，凛乎其不可留也。

Watson · 1965

I gathered up my robe and climbed up. I picked my way over jutting rocks, pushed through the tangled underbrush, crouched on tiger- and leopard-shaped boulders, pulled myself up on gnarled and dragon-shaped trees, and reached up to clutch the precarious nests of the falcons, looking down into the shadowy palace of the River God. My two guests were unable to follow me. I let out a long piercing cry. Trees and grasses shook; the mountains rang; the valleys echoed; wind arose and waves rushed. I too was filled with a quiet grief, and was tense with awe. A chill crept over me; it was impossible to stay.

Owen · 1996

I gathered up my robe and climbed the cliff. I stepped over jagged rocks, pushed through tangled undergrowth, crouched on boulders shaped like tigers and leopards, climbed trees that twisted like coiling dragons, reached up to the precarious nests of peregrines and looked down into the shadowy palace of the River Lord. My two guests could not follow me. I let out a long, sharp cry; grass and trees trembled; mountains answered, valleys resounded; wind rose and waters surged. I too was quietly saddened, and deeply awed, a chill creeping over me — I could not remain there.

R2 · P5

返而登舟，放乎中流，聽其所止而休焉。時夜將半，四顧寂寥。適有孤鶴，橫江東來，翅如車輪，玄裳縞衣，戛然長鳴，掠予舟而西去。

Watson · 1965

I went back and got into the boat, let it drift, and went to sleep where it stopped. Around midnight, a lone crane came flying across the river from the east. Its wings were like cartwheels; its black and white plumage gleamed. It screamed and, skimming past my boat, flew off to the west.

Owen · 1996

I went back and got in the boat, let it drift in midstream, and rested where it stopped of itself. It was approaching midnight. All around was still and desolate. Just then a solitary crane came flying from the east across the river. Its wings were like cartwheels; its robe was black, its shirt white; it uttered a long, piercing cry and swept past my boat heading westward.

R2 · P6

予亦就睡，夢一道士，羽衣蹁躚，過臨皋之下，揖予而言曰：「赤壁之游樂乎？」問其姓名，俯而不答。「嗚呼！噫嘻！我知之矣。疇昔之夜，飛鳴而過我者，非子也邪？」道士顧笑，予亦驚寤。開戶視之，不見其處。

Watson · 1965

I fell asleep and dreamed of a Taoist priest wearing a feathery robe, fluttering and dancing, who passed by beneath Lin-kao, bowed to me, and said, "Did you enjoy your trip to Red Cliff?" I asked his name; he bent his head and did not answer. "Ah! I know. Last night — was it not you that flew crying past my boat?" The priest looked back and laughed. I woke up startled and opened the door to look. There was nothing there.

Owen · 1996

Then I went to sleep and dreamed of a Daoist priest in feathered robes, fluttering and light, who passed beneath Lingao, bowed, and said to me: "Was your excursion to Red Cliff enjoyable?" I asked his name; he bowed his head and would not answer. "Alas!" I said. "I know you now — was it not you that last night flew crying past my boat?" The priest looked back and smiled. I woke suddenly with a start, opened the door and looked out — there was nothing there.

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前赤壁賦

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