A Lotus Pool in the Moonlight
Zhu Ziqing
(Tr. by Xu Yingcai / 徐英才译)
I feel very restless these days. Tonight, while I sit in our yard and enjoy the cool air, it strikes me that the lotus pool that I pass every day must look different under this full moon. The moon sails slowly up into the sky, and the laughter of the children playing in the street behind the wall is all gone. In the house, my wife pats our son Run’er to the beat of the lullaby she drowsily croons. I quietly slip on a gown and walk out, leaving the door closed behind me.
Winding along the side of the lotus pool is a cinder-paved path. This is a secluded road with very few pedestrians, even during the daytime, and therefore, it is quieter at night. Encircling the pool are dense clusters of trees, and growing by the path are willows and some trees unknown to me. On a moonless night, this path appears eerily somber, but it is fine tonight, although the moonlight is pale.
I am the only one on the path, strolling with my hands behind me. This gives me a sense of possessing the entire vicinity, and also a sense of sublimating myself into another world. I enjoy the hustle and bustle of life but am also fond of peacefulness. I like socializing, but don’t mind being all by myself. Like tonight, under this filmy moon, all by myself, I can think about anything I want to or nothing at all. I therefore feel I am a free man. I can completely ignore what I have to do or say during the daytime. This is the beauty of being alone. So let me just enjoy this boundless view of the lotus in the moonlight.
Gazing at the meandering pool, I see an abundance of lotus leaves. Standing high above the water, they look like the flared skirts of ballerinas; interspersed among the layers upon layers of leaves are white flowers, some of them blossoming gracefully and others budding shyly. They look very much like bright pearls, or stars in the azure sky. When a gentle breeze wafts over them, a whiff of lingering fragrance follows, which is as ethereal as the music flowing from the high tower in the distance. Right at this moment, there is a slight shiver from among the leaves and flowers. Like lightning, it flashes to the other side of the pool in the blink of an eye and zips open the densely clustered leaves in a jade-green streak. Underneath the leaves are innumerable ripples, which may be invisible, yet this invisibility is what accentuates the charm of the leaves.
Like water, the moonlight quietly streams onto the wide expanse of leaves and flowers. Over the pool, a thin greenish mist floats up. Thus, the leaves and flowers appear to be washed in milk or cloaked in a piece of fine gauze, as misty as a dream. Although a full-orbed moon sails in the sky tonight, it cannot shine brightly, because of the clouds, flimsy though they may be. In my opinion, this is where the beauty lies—although one cannot dispense with sound sleep, sometimes a little nap has its own appeal. As the moon shines through the trees, it casts across the pool irregular and mottled shadows from the bosky shrubs standing high above. The sparse silhouettes of the winsome, sinuous willows seem to be painted onto the lotus leaves. The moonlight does not shine evenly onto the pool, but the lights and the shadows thus formed are rendered so harmoniously that they are like a famous melody being played on the violin.
Surrounding the pool, far and near, high and low, are trees, and most of them are willows. They encircle the pool tightly, except for a few spaces at the side where the path winds along. These spaces look as though they have been designed particularly to receive the moonshine. All of these trees appear dim, and look, at a quick glance, like a cloud of smog. But through the smog, the graceful stance of the willows is still discernible. At the tips of the trees are vague outlines of the distant hills—faintly recognizable at the most. And dripping through the sporadic gaps among the trees are the lights of street lamps, dimly torpid like drowsy eyes. At the moment, the most animated sounds in this scene are the singing of the cicadas in the trees and the crowing of the frogs in the water, but these joys are theirs, not mine. I have nothing!
My thoughts suddenly drift to the lotus-gathering event. The lotus-gathering event is an old southern tradition, which can arguably be traced far back in time but was the most popular in the Six Dynasties (the 3rd century to the 6th century). Details about the lotus-gathering events are are revealed, to a certain extent, in the ancient poetry. The lotus gatherings were usually maidens, who traveled on dinghies while singing love songs. There were not only a lot of lotus gatherers, but also many spectators. It must have been a joyful and romantic event. In his verse, Ode to Lotus Gathering, Emperor Yuan of Liang gave a vivid description of the scene.
Therefore,
Fine young men and fair ladies,
In a courting mood, ride dinghies.
Here they wind back the egret-shaped boats,
To pass their goblets for amorous toasts.
With the oars tangled in water leaves,
They row their dinghies through the duckweeds.
In plain skirts dangling from their waspish waists,
The girls, glancing back, move in slow gaits.
While summer proceeds, spring lingers,
With tender leaves and fresh flowers.
They giggle and hope to keep off the splash and spray,
And lift their attire in case the boats tilt and way.
This verse clearly reveals the merry spectacle of such an event. It must have been an interesting event, but we now do not have the fortune to enjoy it.
This reminds me of a few lines from The Song of Xizhou.
I went to gather lotus in South Pool,
Where the autumn lotus flowers outgrow me;
The seedpods I stoop to toy with and pull,
Are as fresh as the green water can be.
The lotus flowers in this pool tonight can also be considered high enough to “outgrow gatherers,” if there is any gatherer, yet unfortunately the water ripples are hidden from sight. This makes me nostalgic for the south. Right at this point of my thought, I suddenly raise my head and find myself already back in front of our door. I gently push the door open and walk in. Inside the house, there is not a single sound to be heard. My wife has already been sound asleep for quite some time.
朗诵:李莉
荷塘月色
朱自清
这几天心里颇不宁静。今晚在院子里坐着乘凉, 忽然想起日日走过的荷塘,在这满月的光里,总该另有一番样子吧。月亮渐渐的升高了,墙外马路上孩子们的欢笑,已经听不见了;妻在屋里拍着闰儿,模模糊糊地哼着眠歌。我悄悄地披上大衫,带上门出去。
沿着荷塘,是一条曲折的小煤屑路这是一条幽僻的路;白天也少人走,夜晚更加寂寞。荷塘四面,长着许多树,蓊蓊郁郁的。路的一旁,是些杨柳,和一些不知道名字的树。没有月光的晚上,这路上阴森森的,有些怕人。今晚却很好,虽然月光也还是淡淡的。
路上只我一人,背着手踱着。这一片天地好象是我的;我也象超出了平常的自己,到了另一个世界里。我爱热闹,也爱冷静;爱群居,也爱独处。象今晚上,一个人在这苍茫的月下,什么都可以想,什么都可以不想,便觉是个自由的人。白天里一定要做的事,一定要说的话,现在都可以不理。这是独处的妙处;我且受用这无边的荷香月色好了。
曲曲折折的荷塘上面,弥望的是田田的叶子。叶子出水很高,象亭亭的舞女的裙。层层的叶子中间,零星地点缀着些白花,有袅娜地开着的,有羞涩地打着朵的;正如一粒粒的明珠, 又如碧天里的星星。微风过处,送来缕缕清香, 仿佛远处高楼上渺茫的歌声似的。这时候叶子与花也有一丝的颤动,象闪电般,霎时传过荷塘的那边去了。叶子本是肩并肩密密地挨着,这便宛然有了一道凝碧的波痕。叶子底下是脉脉的流水,遮住了,不能见一些颜色;而叶子却更见风致了。
月光如流水一般,静静地泻在这一片叶子和花上。薄薄的青雾浮起在荷塘里。叶子和花仿佛在牛乳中洗过一样;又象笼着轻纱的梦。虽然是满月,天上却有一层淡淡的云,所以不能朗照;但我以为这恰是到了好处--酣眠固不可少,小睡也是别有风味的。月光是隔了树照过来的,高处丛生的灌木,落下参差的斑驳的黑影;弯弯的杨柳的稀疏的倩影,象是画在荷叶上。塘中的月色并不均匀;但光与影有着和谐的旋律,如梵婀玲上奏着的名曲。
荷塘的四面,远远近近,高高低低都是树,而杨柳最多。这些树将一片荷塘重重围住;只在小路一旁,漏着几段空隙,象是特为月光留下的。树色一例是阴阴的,乍看象一团烟雾;但杨柳的丰姿,便在烟雾里也辨得出。树梢上隐隐约约的是一带远山,只有些大意罢了。树缝里也漏着一两点路灯光,没精打采的,是渴睡人的眼。这时候最热闹的,要数树上的蝉声和水里的蛙声;但热闹是他们的!我什么也没有。
忽然想起采莲的事情来了。采莲是江南的旧俗,似乎很早就有,而六朝时为盛;从诗歌里可以约略知道。采莲的是少年的女子,她们是荡着小船,唱着艳歌去的。采莲人不用说很多,还有看采莲的人。那是一个热闹的季节,也是一个风流的季节。梁元帝《采莲赋》里说得好:
于是
妖童媛女,荡舟心许;
鷁首徐回,兼传羽杯;
欋将移而藻挂,船欲动而萍开。
尔其纤腰束素,迁延顾步;
夏始春余,叶嫩花初,
恐沾裳而浅笑,畏倾船而敛裾。
可见当时嬉游的光景了。这真是有趣的事,可惜我们现在早已无福消受了。
于是又记起《西洲曲》里的句子:
采莲南塘秋,莲花过人头;低头弄莲子,莲子清如水。今晚若有采莲人,这儿的莲花也算得"过人头"了;只不见一些流水的影子,是不行的。这令我到底惦着江南了。--这样想着,猛一抬头,不觉已是自己的门前;轻轻地推门进去,什么声息也没有,妻已睡熟好久了。
朗诵:李莉
译者简介
徐英才,原复旦英语教师,现美国德宝大学汉学老师,主讲过语言、文学、艺术、哲学等在内的诸多科目。现任华人诗学会会长,汉英双语纸质诗刊《诗殿堂》总编,有多部译著出版,其中汉英译著《英译唐宋八大家散文精选》和《英译中国经典散文选》曾由中国赠送美国林肯中学。
Xu Yingcai, a former Fudan English teacher, now a teacher of Chinese Studies in DePaul University, President of Chinese Poetry Association, and Editor-in-Chief for Poetry Hall – A Chinese and English bilingual journal, has multiple translation books published. His translations Selected Translation of Eight Tang & Song Prose Masters and Selected Translation of Chinese Prose Classics were once the gifts Chinese government gave to Lincoln High School USA.
朗诵者简介
李莉,毕业于北京大学计算机科学技术系软件专业。1999年从北京移民加拿大。现在多伦多某保险公司任数据架构师,从事数据交易数据仓库等数据模型的研究设计和建立。华诗会理事,双语纸质诗刊《诗殿堂》编辑。数与字皆喜,文与理兼修,在知识的海洋里浸其内,乐其中!
Lily Li,graduated from Computer Science and Technology of Beijing University. She immigrated to Toronto from Beijing in 1999. As a Data Architect, she is engaged in data model architectural design and establishment at an insurance company. She is a board committee member of Chinese Poetry Association,and an editor of Chinese and English bilingual Poetry Hall journal. She is interested in both numbers and words, science and literature, she enjoys the good time of diving and swimming in the ocean of knowledge.
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