解心事


招子庸作品,金文泰翻譯

Quit ye the soul’s sorrow
(一) 「心各有事,總要解脫為先。心事唔安,解得就了然。苦海茫茫多數是命蹇,但向苦中尋樂便是神仙。若係愁苦到不堪,真係惡算,總好過官門地獄更重哀憐。退一步海闊天空就唔使自怨,心能自解,真正係樂境無邊。若係解到唔解得通就講過陰隙過便。唉,凡事檢點,積善心唔險,你睇遠報在來生,近報在目前。」

Each soul has its sorrow; this ye ought first to quit and cast aside.
The soul’s sorrow galls; quit it, then there is peace.
Wide, wide is the sea of bitterness; ill-fated be more than half therein;
But whoso find joy amid the bitter, theirs is an angel-spirit.
If woe and bitterness pass beyond sufferance, then ‘tis an evil shift;
Though better than that hell which is the judge’s gate; it were more grievous far.
Draw back but a step from your petty grief; ocean widens; heaven’s void deepens; no need then to fret yourself.
The soul that can quit its thrall truly is as a land of boundless joy.
If quittance there be, but quittance be not complete, then exercise yourselves in secret charity.
Aye! But take count of all things;
The hoard of a good heart brings no hazard;
Look you! Its far reward is in the life to come, its near reward is beneath your eyes.
(二) 「心事惡解,都要解到佢分明。解字看得圓通,萬事都盡輕。心事千條就有一千樣病症。總係心中煩極講不得過人聽。大抵痴字入得症深都係情字染病。唔除痴字就係妙藥都唔靈。花柳場中最易迷卻本性,溫柔鄉裡總要自出奇兵。悟破色空方正是樂培,長迷花柳就會墜落愁城。唉,須要自醒,世間無定是楊花性,總係邊一便風來就向一便有情。」
The soul’s sorrow is hard to quit; but quit it ye must, till plainly ye part it from you.
The word ‘quittance,’ look it round and through, lighteneth wholly a myriad troubles.
Methinks that the soul’s thousand sorrows have a thousand phases of malady as their witness;
Though, when the heart-ache is intense, it has no voice for men to hear.
Chiefly the word ‘frenzy’ drives disease in deep; likewise the word ‘passion’ has the taint of malady.
If frenzied thoughts be not discarded, then even magic medicines are of no avail.
In arbours of flower and willow it is most easy to be sense-enthralled.
So from Complaisant Thorp must ye come forth as wondrous warriors.
Probe in conscious knowledge the vanities of beauty, then verily ye are in the happy land.
But if long enthralled by flower and willow, ye will sink down to Sorrow City.
Ah! Needs must ye yourselves awake.
In the world naught is stable; ‘tis as the nature of the willow-blossom,
Whose bent is ever to incline that way which the gale goeth.

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