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花谢花飞飞满天,红消香断有谁怜?游丝软系飘春榭,落絮轻沾扑绣帘.闺中女儿惜春暮,愁绪满怀无逝处.手中花锄出绣帘,忍踏落花来复去?柳丝榆荚自芳菲,不管桃飘与李飞.桃李明年能再发,明年
题目详情
花谢花飞飞满天,红消香断有谁怜?
游丝软系飘春榭,落絮轻沾扑绣帘.
闺中女儿惜春暮,愁绪满怀无逝处.
手中花锄出绣帘,忍踏落花来复去?
柳丝榆荚自芳菲,不管桃飘与李飞.
桃李明年能再发,明年闺中知有谁?
三月香巢已垒成,梁间燕子太无情!
明年花发虽可啄,却不到人去梁空巢已倾.
一年三百六十日,风刀霜剑严相逼.
明媚鲜妍能几时,一朝漂泊难寻觅.
花开易见落难寻,阶前愁煞葬花人.
独倚花锄偷洒泪,洒上空枝见血痕.
杜鹃无语正黄昏,何锄归去掩重门.
青灯照壁人初睡,冷雨敲窗被未温.
怪侬底事倍伤神?半为怜春半恼春:
怜春忽至恼忽去,至又无言去不闻.
昨宵庭外悲歌发,知是花魂与鸟魂?
花魂鸟魂总难留,鸟自无言花自羞.
愿奴胁下生双翼,随花飞到天尽头.
天尽头,何处有香丘?
未若锦囊收艳骨,一抔净土掩风流.
质本洁来还洁去,强于污淖陷渠沟.
尔今死去侬收葬,未卜侬身何日丧.
侬今葬花人笑痴,他年葬侬知是谁?
试看春残花渐落,便是红颜老死时.
一朝春尽红颜老,花落人亡两不知!
游丝软系飘春榭,落絮轻沾扑绣帘.
闺中女儿惜春暮,愁绪满怀无逝处.
手中花锄出绣帘,忍踏落花来复去?
柳丝榆荚自芳菲,不管桃飘与李飞.
桃李明年能再发,明年闺中知有谁?
三月香巢已垒成,梁间燕子太无情!
明年花发虽可啄,却不到人去梁空巢已倾.
一年三百六十日,风刀霜剑严相逼.
明媚鲜妍能几时,一朝漂泊难寻觅.
花开易见落难寻,阶前愁煞葬花人.
独倚花锄偷洒泪,洒上空枝见血痕.
杜鹃无语正黄昏,何锄归去掩重门.
青灯照壁人初睡,冷雨敲窗被未温.
怪侬底事倍伤神?半为怜春半恼春:
怜春忽至恼忽去,至又无言去不闻.
昨宵庭外悲歌发,知是花魂与鸟魂?
花魂鸟魂总难留,鸟自无言花自羞.
愿奴胁下生双翼,随花飞到天尽头.
天尽头,何处有香丘?
未若锦囊收艳骨,一抔净土掩风流.
质本洁来还洁去,强于污淖陷渠沟.
尔今死去侬收葬,未卜侬身何日丧.
侬今葬花人笑痴,他年葬侬知是谁?
试看春残花渐落,便是红颜老死时.
一朝春尽红颜老,花落人亡两不知!
▼优质解答
答案和解析
Flowers fade and fly,
and flying fill the sky;
Their bloom departs,their perfume gone,
yet who stands pitying by?
And wandering threads of gossamer
on the summer-house are seen,
And falling catkins lightly dew-steeped
strike the embroidered screen.
A girl within the inner rooms,
I mourn that spring is done,
A veil of sorrow binds my heart,
and solace there is none.
I pass into the garden,
and I turn to use my hoe,
Treading over fallen glories
as I lightly come and go.
There are willow-sprays and flowers of elm,
and these have scent enough.
I care not if the peach and plum,
are stripped from every bough.
The peach-tree and the plum-tree too
next year may bloom again,
But next year,in the inner rooms,
tell me,shall I remain?
By the third moon new fragrant nests
shall see the light of day,
New swallows fly among the beams,
each on its thoughtless way.
Next year once more they'll seek their food
among the painted flowers,
But I may go,and beams may go,
and with them swallow bowers.
Three hundred days and sixty make
a year,and therein lurk
Daggers of wind and swords of frost
to do their cruel work.
How long will last the fair fresh flower
which bright and brighter glows?
One morning its petals float away,
but to where no-one knows.
Gay blooming buds attract the eye,
faded they're lost to sight;
Oh,let me sadly bury them
beside these steps tonight.
Alone,unseen,I seize my hoe,
with many a bitter tear;
They fall upon the naked stem
and stains of blood appear.
The night-jar now has ceased to mourn,
the dawn comes on apace,
I seize my hoe and close the gates,
leaving the burying-place;
But not until sunbeams dot the wall
does slumber soothe my care,
The cold rain pattering on the pane
as I lie shivering there.
You wonder that with flowing tears
my youthful cheek is wet;
They partly rise from angry thoughts,
and partly from regret.
Regret that spring comes suddenly;
and anger that it cannot last.
No sound to announce its approach,
or warn us when it's passed.
Last night within the garden
sad songs were faintly heard,
Sung,as I knew,by spirits,
spirits of flower and bird.
We cannot keep them here with us,
these much-loved birds and flowers,
They sing but for a season's space,
and bloom a few short hours.
If only I on a feathered wing
might soar aloft and fly,
With flower spirits I would seek
the rooms within the sky.
But high in the air
What grave is there?
No,give me an embroidered bag
within to lay their charms,
And Mother Earth,pure Mother Earth,
shall hide them in her arms.
Thus those sweet forms which spotless came
shall spotless go again,
Nor pass dirty with mud and filth
along some filthy drain.
Farewell,dear flowers,forever now,
thus buried as was best,
I have not yet divined when I
with you shall sink to rest.
I who can bury flowers like this
a laughing-stock shall be;
I cannot say in days to come
what hands shall bury me.
See how when spring begins to fail
each opening flower fades;
So too there is a time of age
and death for beautiful maids;
And when the fleeting spring is gone,
and days of beauty over,
Flowers fall,and lovely maidens die,
and both are known no more.
does anyone has a better translation?
chinese version comming...^_~
This post has been edited by orchid_dreams
and flying fill the sky;
Their bloom departs,their perfume gone,
yet who stands pitying by?
And wandering threads of gossamer
on the summer-house are seen,
And falling catkins lightly dew-steeped
strike the embroidered screen.
A girl within the inner rooms,
I mourn that spring is done,
A veil of sorrow binds my heart,
and solace there is none.
I pass into the garden,
and I turn to use my hoe,
Treading over fallen glories
as I lightly come and go.
There are willow-sprays and flowers of elm,
and these have scent enough.
I care not if the peach and plum,
are stripped from every bough.
The peach-tree and the plum-tree too
next year may bloom again,
But next year,in the inner rooms,
tell me,shall I remain?
By the third moon new fragrant nests
shall see the light of day,
New swallows fly among the beams,
each on its thoughtless way.
Next year once more they'll seek their food
among the painted flowers,
But I may go,and beams may go,
and with them swallow bowers.
Three hundred days and sixty make
a year,and therein lurk
Daggers of wind and swords of frost
to do their cruel work.
How long will last the fair fresh flower
which bright and brighter glows?
One morning its petals float away,
but to where no-one knows.
Gay blooming buds attract the eye,
faded they're lost to sight;
Oh,let me sadly bury them
beside these steps tonight.
Alone,unseen,I seize my hoe,
with many a bitter tear;
They fall upon the naked stem
and stains of blood appear.
The night-jar now has ceased to mourn,
the dawn comes on apace,
I seize my hoe and close the gates,
leaving the burying-place;
But not until sunbeams dot the wall
does slumber soothe my care,
The cold rain pattering on the pane
as I lie shivering there.
You wonder that with flowing tears
my youthful cheek is wet;
They partly rise from angry thoughts,
and partly from regret.
Regret that spring comes suddenly;
and anger that it cannot last.
No sound to announce its approach,
or warn us when it's passed.
Last night within the garden
sad songs were faintly heard,
Sung,as I knew,by spirits,
spirits of flower and bird.
We cannot keep them here with us,
these much-loved birds and flowers,
They sing but for a season's space,
and bloom a few short hours.
If only I on a feathered wing
might soar aloft and fly,
With flower spirits I would seek
the rooms within the sky.
But high in the air
What grave is there?
No,give me an embroidered bag
within to lay their charms,
And Mother Earth,pure Mother Earth,
shall hide them in her arms.
Thus those sweet forms which spotless came
shall spotless go again,
Nor pass dirty with mud and filth
along some filthy drain.
Farewell,dear flowers,forever now,
thus buried as was best,
I have not yet divined when I
with you shall sink to rest.
I who can bury flowers like this
a laughing-stock shall be;
I cannot say in days to come
what hands shall bury me.
See how when spring begins to fail
each opening flower fades;
So too there is a time of age
and death for beautiful maids;
And when the fleeting spring is gone,
and days of beauty over,
Flowers fall,and lovely maidens die,
and both are known no more.
does anyone has a better translation?
chinese version comming...^_~
This post has been edited by orchid_dreams
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