166. 积雨辋川庄作（王维）
正文
现代汉语译文
正文
积雨空林烟火迟，蒸藜炊黍饷东菑。
现代汉语译文
久雨的空林里炊烟升得迟缓，村里人蒸着藜菜、煮着黍饭，送去东边的田头。
烟火迟三字只有久雨才有：柴湿、天潮，烟起得慢。饷田是给耕作的人送饭，开头就是农家的一个正午。
正文
漠漠水田飞白鹭，阴阴夏木啭黄鹂。
现代汉语译文
广漠的水田上白鹭飞起，幽深的夏木里黄鹂啼啭。
漠漠、阴阴两组叠字历来被称道：水田的空阔、夏木的浓荫，全靠叠字铺出来。白鹭、黄鹂一白一黄，颜色点在水田深绿上。
正文
山中习静观朝槿，松下清斋折露葵。
现代汉语译文
在山中修习静观，看木槿朝开暮落；松下吃素斋，采带露的葵菜。
朝槿早晨开花，傍晚就谢——观槿即观无常。露葵带露而采，素斋的具体内容。两句写诗人自己在庄中的日子。
正文
野老与人争席罢，海鸥何事更相疑。
现代汉语译文
乡野老人已与人争过席位、不分彼此了，海鸥为什么还要对我猜疑呢？
争席用杨朱典故，指毫无架子与人混同；海鸥用《列子》鸥鹭忘机的典：心无机心，鸥鸟才肯亲近。结句的自问带着一点得意：我已到无人可疑的境地。
赏析 · Commentary
「漠漠水田飞白鹭」：添字成金的名案 · Hazy Paddies and Flying Egrets: the Famous Case of Two Added Words
唐人李肇《国史补》记了一个公案：有人说这两句本自李嘉祐诗「水田飞白鹭，夏木啭黄鹂」，王维只是加了漠漠、阴阴四字。后人多不以为抄袭，而认为加得好——水田上加漠漠，才见得田面的辽阔迷蒙；夏木上加阴阴，才有绿荫的层次；没有这四个字，白鹭黄鹂只是写实的记录，有了它们，画面顿时有了空气的湿度和光影的深度。这个公案恰好说明了王维写景的方法论：他很少发明新的物象，他给物象加上恰当的形容，让实景变成可以走进去的画。
The Tang miscellany Guoshi bu records a dispute: some said these lines come from Li Jiayou's paddy fields, flying egrets; summer trees, singing orioles, and that Wang Wei merely added the four characters hazy and deep. Most later critics see not plagiarism but perfect addition — hazy is what gives the paddies their wide, moisture-laden spread; deep gives the summer shade its layers. Without them the egrets and orioles are mere records; with them the picture gains the humidity of the air and the depth of light. The case is a summary of Wang Wei's method: he seldom invents new objects; he adds the right modifier, and fact turns into a picture one can walk into.
前两联是农庄，后两联是禅房 · The First Two Couplets Are the Farm; the Last Two, the Meditation Cell
这首诗的前四句和后四句像两个频道：前两联写农民送饭、白鹭黄鹂，是农庄的忙碌与生机；后两联写观槿、折葵、争席、忘机，是诗人自己的静修生活。两部分由「习静」二字接上——正因为庄外有农人的烟火，庄内的清斋才成其静。旧评说王维诗中有画，这首的画是双联画：一边是人气，一边是禅意，中间隔着一层积雨的湿气。尾联的两个典故（争席、海鸥）都指向同一个意思：我已与乡野无异、无机心可猜——自许之中带着退隐者的坦然。
The first four lines and the last four are like two channels: the first couplets on farmers carrying meal and egrets and orioles — the farm's bustle and life; the last on watching hibiscus, picking mallows, contending for seats, forgetting schemes — the poet's own quiet practice. The link is practicing stillness: only because the farm keeps its hearth smoke can the plain fast within be still. Old judges said Wang Wei's poems hold paintings; this one is a diptych — human warmth on one panel, Chan thought on the other, layered with the damp of long rains. The two closing allusions, seats and gulls, aim at one point: I am now as one with the countryside, with no scheming to suspect — the self-approval carries a recluse's ease.
积雨：全诗的底色 · Long Rains: the Ground Color of the Whole Poem
题目里的积雨常被读者当作背景带过，其实它是全诗的底色：烟火迟是因为柴湿，漠漠的水田是因为雨水积着，阴阴的夏木是因为天色阴沉，露葵的露是雨的另一种形态。把题目两个字读进每一联，就能看见这首诗写的是雨后还是雨中——答案是雨中：没有任何一句写放晴。在连绵的雨里，农事照常、鸟照常叫、人照常修静，这种「一切照旧」正是辋川生活的自信。王维晚年半官半隐，住在自己经营的辋川别业里，这首诗记录的是那种日子最普通的一天，也是最好的一天。
The long rains of the title are usually read as background, but they are the ground color of everything: the slow smoke is damp firewood; the hazy paddies are standing water; the deep summer shade is an overcast sky; the dew on the mallows is rain in another form. Read the title into every couplet and the question answers itself — is this after the rain or in it? In it: not one line mentions clearing skies. Through the unbroken rain the farming goes on, the birds call, the man keeps his practice — this everything-as-usual is the confidence of life at Wangchuan. In his last years Wang Wei held a nominal post and lived half-retired on his own estate; this poem records the most ordinary such day, and the best.