Monthly Archives: 十二月 2010

相思索


• 《相思索》 The rope of love
招子庸輯,金文泰譯

「相思索,綁住兩頭心。溫柔鄉裡果住情人。君呀,柳或你唔肯放鬆定是奴綁得你緊?迷頭迷惱好似昏君。縱有妙手話解得呢箇結開亦無路可問,就俾你利刀亦難割得呢段情根。你有本事削性丟開唔掛恨,點想日來丟淡夢裡又要追尋。天呀,你既係生人做乜把情字做引?但係情長情短未必冇的來因。總係唔錯用箇點真情就唔使受困,縱使一時果住到底有日開心。真正最會收人都係瘟緊箇陣。唉!都係敢混。唔怕精乖唔怕氣渾屯,總係情關難破就係死亦要追尋。」

The rope of love-thought binds together our two hearts.
Therewith is the wooer confined in Complaisant Thorp.
My lord, either you are loth to let go, or it is I that have fast bound you.
Dazed is your head, and dazed your brain, as that of a witless princeling.
Though some deft-handed craftsman say that he could unravel this knot, yet I have no means of asking him.
Aye, though sharp your knife, you scarce could cut this passion’s root.
If you are wise, then in your own despite cast off the bond! Do not rivet regret in your heart!
How could I think that, in days to come, you would weary of me, and yet when dreaming follow in my quest?
Heaven! Since thou madest man, why didst thou give him the word ‘passion’ for a guide?
But, be passion long or passion brief, ‘tis certain that fate was foreordained.
Withal, if true passion be not misused, men need not suffer duress.
Though for a moment you be distressed, yet in the end your heart will be relieved.
Truly the best time for revenge is the hour of love’s malady.
Ah! All is chaos.
I do not fear your wit, I do not fear its want.
Though passion’s gates be hard to burst, yet even in death I must follow in your quest.

唔好發夢


• 《唔好發夢》 ‘Tis ill dreaming
招子庸輯,金文泰譯

「勸你唔好發夢,恐怕夢裡相逢。夢後醒來事事都化空,分離兩箇字豈有心唔痛。君呀你在天涯流落你妹在水面飄逢。懷人偷抱琵琶弄,多少凄凉盡在指中。捨得你唔係敢樣子死心,君呀你又唔累得我咁重。睇我瘦成敢樣子重講乜花容。今日恩情好極都係唔中用。唉!愁萬種。累得我相思無主血淚啼紅。

I warn you ‘tis ill dreaming: for I fear that in dreams we two may meet:
Thus after the dream, when we awake, all things would change and would grow void.
‘Parting’ – how can the word fail to cause heart-ache?
My lord, you are departed to heaven’s verge: your handmaid is as weed drifting on the water.
Remembering my lover, I furtively clasp my guitar to play thereon.
Unnumbered sorrows are all committed to my finger-tips.
Were you not so true to death, my lord, you could not do me so heavy a hurt.
Since I am grown so thin, how can I liken my face to a flower?
To-day love’s passion, though exceeding great, avails me nothing.
Ah! Sadness has a myriad phases.
You have wronged me in making my love-thoughts masterless: I have cried till my tears ran blood-red.

長發夢


• 《長發夢》 Long dreams
招子庸輯,金文泰譯

「點得長日發夢,等我日夜共你相逢。萬里程途都係一夢通。箇的無情雲雨把情根種,種落呢段情根莫俾佢打鬆。雖則夢裡巫山空把你送,就係夢中同你講幾句亦可以解得吓愁容。君呀,你發夢便約定共我一齊方正有用,切莫我要夢裡去尋君你又不在夢中。君呀,你早食早眠把身體保重,心想痛,你歸心何日動,免至我醒來離別獨對住燈紅。」

Would I might dream the live-long day, dreaming that day and night I were united with you!
A myriad leagues of highroad may be traversed in a single dream.
Yon rain and clouds, though loveless, have planted in me passion’s seed.
And since this passion’s root is planted, I must not suffer it to be jerked loose.
Though in your dreams the Witches’ Mountain receive you but in vain:
Yet amid dreams I may speak a few sentences with you and thus rid me of this sad countenance.
My lord, you should be sure of dreaming when I dream: then it will avail you.
When in dreams I seek for you, you should never fail to be a-dreaming.
Lord, break your fast early and fall asleep betimes; pay heed to your body.
The thoughts of my mind are painful.
Prithee, when will your heart yearn homewards?
Let me not wake parted from you and in loneliness watch the red lamp.

燈蛾


• 《燈蛾》 The lamp moth
招子庸輯,金文泰譯

「莫話唔怕火,試睇吓箇隻烘火燈蛾。飛來飛去總要摸落箇盞深窩。深淺本係唔知故此成夜去摸,迷頭迷惱好似著了風魔。佢點曉得方寸好似萬丈深潭任你飛,亦不過逐浪隨波唔知喪盡幾多。待等熱到癡身情亦知到係錯,總係愛飛唔得起問你叫乜誰拖。雖則係死咯任你死盡萬千佢重唔肯結果,心頭咁猛依舊向住箇的猛將張羅。點得你學蝴蜨夢醒箇陣花亦悟破。唉!飛去任我。就俾你花花世界都奈我唔何。」

Say not that you have no fear of the fire! Look at yonder fire-scorched lamp moth!
Hither and thither it flies: but still it must grope to its fall down the deep chasm.
Of deep and shallow alike it has no knowledge, therefore all night long it goes groping,
With dazed head and dazzled brain, as if it had met the wind-fiend.
How can it know that the inch-square of the lamp’s chimney is deep as a myriad ells; that, though you fly, you cannot cross it?
Adown the foam and aslant the billows, I cannot tell how many of you have thus perished.
But wait till the heat riots in your body, then you will see the error of your passion.
Though you love flying, you cannot rise: whom, I ask, will you summon to the rescue?
Though you die, yet were you to die ten thousand, thousand times, the others would not bear fruit of repentance:
Their desire being so fierce, they would follow, as before, in aid of their fierce captains.
Would you could, like a butterfly, awake from your dream! Then would the flowers also be conscious of their transience.
Ah! Let me fly away!
Then, though the world be flowers, flowers, yet what is that to me?

花心蜨


• 《花心蜨》 The butterfly in the flower’s heart
招子庸輯,金文泰譯

「花心蜨,捍極佢都唔飛。一定貪圖香膩却被花迷。花為有情憐憫蜨使,蜨為風流所以正得咁癡。大抵花蜨相交都係同一樣氣味。唉!情願死。叫我割愛實在唔輕易,除是蜨死花殘箇陣正得了期。」

A butterfly, settled in the heart of a flower, will not fly away for all that you would expel him.
He ever lusts after the gloss of fragrance: in very deed the flowers cast their spell on him.
The flowers, because of their gaiety, become so impassioned.
In fine the dalliance of flowers with butterflies hath a savour of likeness.
Ah! Willingly would I die!
You bid me cut my love’s cord: truly it is no easy task,
Unless so be that the butterfly is dead and the flower crushed: then indeed the final day has come.

傷春


• 《傷春》 The wounded spring
招子庸輯,金文泰譯

鳥啼花落暗傷春,人老對住花殘想起就斷魂。青春自信都有人憐憫,恐怕脂粉飄零寂莫一生。唔知邊一箇多情邊一箇薄行。總係紅頻偏遇箇的喪心人。今日蜨去剩朶花開叫我何所倚凭。 唉,喉帶噎哽,想到玉碎香埋阻不住兩泪淋。

The bird cries; the flower falls; the spring has a hidden wound.
The man in old age, as he muses over the bruised flower, feels broken in spirit.
Green spring itself believes that there are those who pity its sadness:
Yet I fear that we, playthings of rouge and powder, must drift desolate all our life long.
I cannot tell whose love is strong, or whose is fickle.
Commonly a perverse fate betrays’ the rosy girl to heartless men.
To-day the butterfly is gone, deserting an open flower: on whom, then, can I rely?
Ah! My throat is stifled with sobbing.
When I think how the jade-jewel is shattered and fragrance buried, I cannot check the tears which fall from my two eyes.

弔秋喜


• 《弔秋喜》
Dirge for Tshau Hei
招子庸作,金文泰譯

聽見你話死,寔在見思疑。何苦輕生得咁癡?你係為人客死心唔怪得你,死因錢債叫我怎不傷悲?你平日當我係知心亦談同我講句,做乜交情三兩箇月都冇句言詞?往日箇種恩情丟了落水,縱有金銀燒盡帶不到陰司。可惜飄泊在青樓孤負你一世,煙花場上冇日開眉。

你名叫做秋喜,只望等到秋來還有喜意。做乜才過冬至後就被雪霜欺。今日無力春風,唔共你争得啖氣。落花無主,敢就葬在春泥。此後情思有夢,你便頻須寄。或者盡我呢點窮心,慰吓故知。

泉路茫茫,你雙脚又咁细。黄泉無客店,問你向乜誰棲。青山白骨,唔知憑誰祭。衰楊殘月,空聽箇隻杜鵑啼,未必有箇知心,来共你擲紙。清明空恨箇頁紙錢飛。

罷咯!不若當作你係義妻,来送你入寺。等你孤魂無主,仗吓佛力扶持。你便哀懇箇位慈雲施吓佛偈,等你轉過來生,誓不做客妻。若係寃債未償,再罰你落花粉地。你便揀一箇多情早早見機。我若共你未斷情緣重有相會日子。須緊記念吓前恩義。講到銷魂兩箇字,共你死過都唔遲。

I hear them say that you are dead: yet indeed I am in doubt.
How came you, so insensate, to make light of life?
You died fro your gallant? Then I cannot grudge your death.
You died for your debts? Then tell me, how can I fail to be grief-stricken?
In your life-time you accounted me your sweetheart: therefore you should have taken counsel with me:
Why, then, though our love was united for three and two months, did you say no word?
You have flung into the water that passion of days gone by.
Now, though I burn gold and silver, I avail not to carry it to the Lord of Hell.
‘Tis pity that I jilted you to drift all your life long among green arbours.
In the place of flowers and vapour never a day smoothes care from the brow:

Yet since your name is called ‘Autumn Joy’,
I do but hope that, when autumn comes, we shall have joy once more.
Why, now the winter solstice is just passed, do I suffer spite of snow and hail?
To-day, week as the spring breeze, I can make no effort to aid you:
Aye! Fallen flowers are masterless: therefore they are buried in the slough of spring.
If hereafter your passions dream dreams, you should transmit them to me ever and anon:
So perchance I may devote all my poor heart to solace of my dead mistress.

Wide, wide is the path of hell: yet your two feet are so dainty:
Hell has no inn: at whose house, prithee, will you rest?
I know not whom you trust to worship your white bones upon the green hill-side.
Lest beneath fragile willow and under the waning moon you hear but the cuckoo’s empty call.
Perchance you have no sweetheart to cast paper-money on your tomb.
So at the Tsheng-meng festival you will miss in vain the paper-money which flits round other graves.

Yes, you were best have been a virtuous wife, that I might have set your tablet in Buddha’s shrine.
Thus your spirit, forlorn and masterless, might have leaned on Budha’s strength.
It were well for you to entreat that Thsz Wan may grant you the Buddhist invocations:
Then, transformed in the next life, you can swear to be no chance-comer’s bride.
If your sin-debts are unpaid, you will again be doomed to the haunt of flower and rouge:
Therefore you should choose you a true lover, and betimes spy out your chance.
If the union of my love-fate with yours remain unbroken, I will yet find a trysting-day.
Forget it not!
Bethink you of our past love’s devotion.
Can I but converse with you till we be soul-absorbed, if then I pass through death with you, it will no be too late.