291. Lament of the Jade Zither | Wen Tingyun
Text
English translation
Original Chinese text
冰簟银床梦不成，碧天如水夜云轻。
English translation
On the cold bamboo mat, on the silvered bed, no dream will come; the blue sky is like water, the night clouds are light.
A cold bamboo mat is a cool mat of bamboo; the silvered bed is a finely adorned bed; no dream will come means she cannot sleep. The blue sky like water describes a clear, limpid night; the night clouds are light means they are thin and pale. The couplet gives only the coolness of the night and the sleeplessness; what is in the heart is not yet spoken.
Original Chinese text
雁声远过潇湘去，十二楼中月自明。
English translation
The cry of the geese passes far away beyond the Xiao and Xiang; in the twelve towers the moon shines of itself.
The cry of the geese marks autumn and stirs thoughts of someone far off—geese were used for letters and for parting. The Xiao and Xiang are the Xiao and Xiang rivers of Hunan, on the southern route the wild geese take. The twelve towers are said to be the dwellings of immortals, here standing for the high tower where the woman lives; of itself in the moon shines of itself is the coldest touch—the moon shines on regardless of anyone's sorrow. (The silvered bed is written in one edition with a variant character of the same meaning.)
赏析 · Commentary
一句“梦不成”定下全篇 · "No Dream Will Come" Sets the Whole Poem
诗从“梦不成”起笔，后面写的都是睡不着时的所见所闻：碧天、轻云、雁声、明月。景物都清、都远、都安静，正好衬出人的不成眠。标题叫“瑶瑟怨”，诗里却没有瑟，也没有一个“怨”字，怨意全在无眠的夜里。
The poem begins with no dream will come, and all that follows is what is seen and heard while unable to sleep: blue sky, light clouds, geese crying, bright moon. The scenery is clear, distant, quiet—just right to set off the sleeplessness. The title speaks of a jade zither's lament, yet there is no zither in the poem and not one word of lament; the complaint lies wholly in the sleepless night.
“月自明”的“自” · The Word "Of Itself"
末句若写成“月正明”，只是写景；用“自明”，就多了“自顾自、与我无关”的意味。雁声越走越远，月亮高悬不动，十二楼中的女子却独自醒着。热闹的都不属于她，明亮的也照不进她的心事。一个虚字，把孤独落到实处。
Had the closing line read the moon is bright, it would be mere scenery; with of itself it gains the sense of shining on its own, unconcerned with me. The geese cry farther and farther off, the moon hangs motionless, and the woman in the twelve towers stays awake alone. Nothing lively is hers, and even the brightness does not reach her heart. One empty word sets the loneliness down solidly.