9月7日

陳寅恪詩選 ─ 殘 春
陳寅恪 ( 1890~1969 )

無端來此送殘春，一角湖樓獨愴神；
讀史早知今日事，對花還憶去年人。
過江愍度饑難救，棄世君平俗更親；
解識蠻山留我意，赤榴如火綠榕新。
家亡國破此身留，客館春寒卻似秋；
雨裡苦愁花事盡，窗前猶噪雀聲啾。
群心已慣經離亂，孤注方看博死休；
袖手沉吟待天意，可堪空白五分頭。

──選自《陳寅恪全集》

September 7

Lingering Spring
Chen Yinke (1890 - 1969)
English translation: Miao Guang

For unknown reasons,
    I come here to bid the lingering spring goodbye;
In the corner of this lake pavilion,
    melancholy and all alone.
From readings of history,
    today's affairs are already foretold;
Across from the blossoms,
    I recall that face from yesteryear.
Even if Zhi Mingdu crossed to the opposite shore,
    famine is not expected to resolve.
Unlike Jun Ping who has abandoned the world,
    mundane affairs seemed closer.
Sensing Manshan's intention
    to make me stay,
Pomegranates red as flames,
    and verdant fresh banyan trees.
Lost from torn families and fallen nation,
    somehow this body has survived;
Spring inside the guesthouse
    feels like the chilling autumn.
Mourning in this falling rain,
    over wilting flowers;
Chitter chatter from the windows,
    are sounds of chirping sparrows.
Hearts of many already submitted
    to days of chaos and separation;
Everything is put to risk
    just for the sake of survival.
Chanting with hands hidden in sleeves
    waiting for fate to speak,
How can one bear to
    let the head turn half white?

── from Chen Yinke Quanji (Complete Works of Chen Yinke)