自春来、 惨绿愁红, 芳心是事可可。 日上花梢, 莺穿柳带, 犹压香衾卧。 暖酥消, 腻云亸, 终日厌厌倦梳裹。 无那! 恨薄情一去, 音书无个。 悔当初、 不把雕鞍锁。 向鸡窗, 只与蛮笺象管, 拘束教吟课。 镇相随, 莫抛躲, 针线闲拈伴伊坐。 和我。 免使年少, 光阴虚过。 <?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /> Ding Feng Bo Liu Yong It is spring but the green leaves appear dismal and the red petals sad, Despondent and weary, I wile away my time. The sun has risen above the blossoms, Orioles flit amidst the willow twigs, Yet I still lie silent under a scented quilt. My full and soft cheeks are haggard, My glossy hair hangs loose and uncombed, Too languid to make up my face and dress. What for I say, since that heartless man has left me. I’m angry there is no news from him. Too late for regrets. I should have locked the carved saddle. Then, he would sit and face the window of the study, With coloured paper and ivory-handled brush in hand, Confined to reading and writing. We could have always been together, Never forsaking or shunning each other’s company; With my needlework I would sit by his side. Only when he is with me, Does my young life not feel wasted. (杨宪益、戴乃迭 译) |
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