五月二十八日，丕白：
季重无恙。途路虽局，官守有限，愿言之怀，良不可任。足下所治僻左，书问致简，益用增劳。
每念昔日南皮之游，诚不可忘。既妙思六经，逍遥百氏，弹棋间设，终以博奕，高谈娱心，哀筝顺耳。弛骛北场，旅食南馆，浮甘瓜于清泉，沈朱李于寒水。白日既匿，继以朗月，同乘并载，以游后园。舆轮徐动，宾从无声，清风夜起，悲笳微吟，乐往哀来，怆然伤怀，余顾而言，斯乐难常。足下之徒，咸以为然。今果分别，各在一方。元瑜长逝，化为异物，每一念至，何时可言！
方今蕤宾纪时，景风扇物，天意和暖，众果具繁。时驾而游，北遵河曲，从者鸣笳以启路，文学托乘于后车。节同时异，物是人非，我劳如何！
今遣骑到邺，故使枉道相过。行矣自爱，
丕白。
Letter
to Wu Zhi, Magistrate of Zhaoge Cao Pi
Fifth month, twenty-eighth day,
Pi reporting:
Are you well, Jizhong? The
distance that separates us is not great, but office imposes restrictions and I
find I have no way to convey the thoughts I want to speak of. The place you are
governing now is awkwardly situated and out of the way and our correspondence
as a result is sketchy, a fact that increases my depression.
Each time I think back to those
days when we amused ourselves at Nanpi, I find them more unforgettable than
ever. After mulling over the secrets of the Six Classics and wandering at will
through the Hundred Philosophers, we found time to squeeze in a little chess,
ending up with a game of liubo.1 Lofty discourse delighted our
minds, plaintive strings soothed the ear. We galloped in haste to the northern
ground, feasted with the crowd in the southern hall, floating sweet melons in
the clear fountain, dunking crimson plums in its cold waters. And when the
bright sun had gone into hiding, we carried on by the glow of the moon. Sharing
a single carriage or driving side by side, we were off to outings at the inner
gardens, our carriage wheels turning slowly, attendants following without a
sound. A fresh breeze sprang up with the night and melancholy flutes sounded
their faint cry. Joy vanished and grief came in its place; sorrowful were the
thoughts that visited us. I turned to you and said, “Such joys can never last!”
and you and your companions all agreed. Now, as we foresaw, you and I are
parted, each in a different corner of the land. Yuanyu has set off on his long
journey, changed into a spiritual being.2 Each time I think of these
things, I wonder when I will ever get to talk with you again.
Just now the fifth month
pitch-pipe marks the season, and all things are fanned by the soft winds of
summer. 3 The breath of the sky is gentle and warm, and fruit of
every kind fills the trees. From time to time I go out in my carriage,
following north along the bend of the river, attendants piping flutes to clear
the road before me, scholars accompanying me in carriages to the rear. The
season is the same as it was then, but the time have changed; the things of
nature are still here, but the men are gone. How can I describe to you the
weariness I feel?
I am about to dispatch a rider to
Ye and will have him make a detour so he can pass our way. Carry on, take care
of yourself.
Pi reporting.
Notes:
1.
A game like backgammon played with bamboo dice and ivory pieces.
2.
Yuanyu 元瑜 is Ruan Yu 阮瑀,
one of the famous men of letters who enjoyed the patronage of the Cao family.
He was the father of the even more famous poet, Ruan Ji (210-263).
3.
Each of the twelve pitch-pipes, representing a twelve-tone scale, was assigned
to one of the months. The fourth, fifth, and sixth months of the lunar calendar
correspond to summer.
（Burton Watson 译） |
