Lines on a Lute (With Preface)

元和十年，予左遷九江郡司馬。明年秋，送客 湓浦口，聞船中夜彈琵琶者，聽其音，錚錚然 有京都聲；問其人，本長安倡女，嘗學琵琶於 穆曹二善才。年長色衰，委身為賈人婦。遂命 酒，使快彈數曲，曲罷憫然。自敘少小時歡樂 事，今漂淪憔悴，轉徙於江湖間。予出官二年 恬然自安，感斯人言，是夕，始覺有遷謫意， 因為長句歌以贈之，凡六百一十六言，命曰琵 琶行。

It was the tenth year of Yuan He. I had been demoted to Jiujiang as Minister of War. Autumn of the following year: I was seeing off a visitor, by way of Pen River, to Pukou. In the boat, at night, I heard someone playing a Pipa. I listened to the music. It was the sonorous rhythm of the capital. I asked after the person. It turned out to be a dancing girl from Chang’an. She had once studied the Pipa with two masters – Mu and Cao. She had grown old and her looks had declined, whereupon she submitted to be the wife of a merchant. Well, I ordered wine and bid her be lively and play a few tunes. The tunes put off her sorrow, and she recounted the happiness of her youth. But now she is a solitary, sallow thing, migrating over the rivers and lakes. I was dismissed from the capital for two years, but held myself contentedly and unperturbed -- this woman’s words affected me. That night I first began to know the meaning in exile. Thus I made a long sentence, a song with which to gift her. It is 610 words. I bid it be called “Pipa Song.”

潯阳江頭夜送客， 楓葉荻花秋瑟瑟。

主人下馬客在船， 舉酒欲飲無管絃。

醉不成歡慘將別， 別時茫茫江浸月。

忽聞水上琵琶聲， 主人忘歸客不發。

The mouth of the river at Xunyang, night, sending off a guest -- maple leaves and the blossoms of reeds hissing in the autumn wind. The host dismounts; his guest, aboard the ship. They lift the wine, prepare to drink -- without a pipe or string. Drunk but not delirious, gloomily to part -- and when to part the moon soaks vaguely in the stream. Then heard on the water is the pipa's voice -- the host neglects his going back, the guest his going forth.

尋聲暗問彈者誰？ 琵琶聲停欲語遲。

移船相近邀相見， 添酒回燈重開宴。

千呼萬喚始出來， 猶抱琵琶半遮面。

轉軸撥絃三兩聲， 未成曲調先有情。

The sound sought, the question, "Who is playing," vaguely asked.  Though the pipa's voice is stopped, they hesitate to speak.  The boats approach, the passengers welcome themselves to meet.  The drinks increase, the lights re-lit, and all rejoin the feast.  As shouts and calls are multiplied, she holds the pipa like a mask.  She turns the rod and strums the pick for thrice and double hums -- the music moves the heart although the song has not begun.

絃絃掩抑聲聲思， 似訴平生不得志。

低眉信手續續彈， 說盡心中無限事。

輕攏慢撚抹復挑， 初為霓裳後六么。

大絃嘈嘈如急雨， 小絃切切如私語。

String by string she covers up her thought in strain by strain, as if to complain that, through the course of life, she'd not attained her aim.  Lowered brow and trusting hand continue the refrain in which she utters to the lees her limitless disease. Light flick, steady sweep, pluck and pick again -- first it's "Rainbow Robe," then "The Six Requests."  The thick string thrums like rapid rain; the thin cord cuts like soughing words.

嘈嘈切切錯雜彈， 大珠小珠落玉盤。

間官鶯語花底滑， 幽咽泉流水下灘。

水泉冷澀絃凝絕， 凝絕不通聲漸歇。

別有幽愁暗恨生， 此時無聲勝有聲。

"Thrum, thrum, sough, sough," the interlocking twangs -- the clatter of large beads and small upon a crystal plate.

銀瓶乍破水漿迸， 鐵騎突出刀鎗鳴。

曲終收撥當心畫， 四絃一聲如裂帛。

東船西舫悄無言， 唯見江心秋月白。

沈吟放撥插絃中， 整頓衣裳起斂容。

自言本是京城女， 家在蝦蟆陵下住。

十三學得琵琶成， 名屬教坊第一部。

曲罷曾教善才服， 妝成每被秋娘妒，

五陵年少爭纏頭， 一曲紅綃不知數。

鈿頭銀篦擊節碎， 血色羅裙翻酒汙。

今年歡笑復明年， 秋月春風等閑度。

弟走從軍阿姨死， 暮去朝來顏色故。

門前冷落車馬稀， 老大嫁作商人婦。

商人重利輕別離， 前月浮梁買茶去。

去來江口守空船， 繞船月明江水寒。

夜深忽夢少年事， 夢啼妝淚紅闌干，

我聞琵琶已嘆息， 又聞此語重唧唧。

同是天涯淪落人， 相逢何必曾相識。

我從去年辭帝京， 謫居臥病潯陽城。

潯陽地僻無音樂， 終歲不聞絲竹聲。

住近湓江地低濕， 黃蘆苦竹繞宅生。

其間旦暮聞何物， 杜鵑啼血猿哀鳴。

春江花朝秋月夜， 往往取酒還獨傾。

豈無山歌與村笛？ 嘔啞嘲哳難為聽。

今夜聞君琵琶語， 如聽仙樂耳暫明。

莫辭更坐彈一曲， 為君翻作琵琶行。

感我此言良久立， 卻坐促絃絃轉急。

淒淒不似向前聲， 滿座重聞皆掩泣。

座中泣下誰最多， 江州司馬青衫濕。