Paroles et traduction 羅文 - 西廂撫琴

西廂撫琴

淡烟夕照暗苍山，
寒寺晚钟响彻林泉绝涧，
夜空偏有离群雁，
小生一似离群雁。
凤侣无端迫分散，
柳下月一弯，
花间幽会，
情似幻。
心寄瑶琴，
愁怀未减，
一声一嗟叹，
惟愿隔窗意中人垂盼，
带千缕浓情续续弹。
空对朗月一弯，
绿窗里愁人衿冷，
嗰种相思情态，
真是欲言难。
天呀既是无缘，
因何邂逅于一旦，
今日情丝缠绕，
一似作茧春蚕。
夫人悔婚筵前，
拆得鸾分凤散，
一句哥哥妹妹，
霎那间平地起波澜。
说我文章灿烂，
未把桂枝攀，
欲作东床娇婿，
应待衣锦呀还。
小姐眉锁春山强把盏，
我似泥雕木塑，
百味亦难餐，
枉我笔解贼围，
却无计把红丝挽，
羞看入帘紫燕，
羞看入帘紫燕语呢喃。
听钟声悠悠实觉烦，
柳树影摇似娥眉动佩环，
步盈盈，
影珊珊，
只有风拂槛。
抚琴长自叹，
挑冰弦思千万，
试问谁共唱弹，
痴痴枉自盼。
昔日司马相如，
一曲凤求凰，
赢得文君慧眼，
今日我锦弦弹破，
只有孤灯一盏，
难觅解意红颜。
这琴音，
怎得天风代传，
胜似传诗递柬，
这琴音，
诉尽凄凉客子，
早已魂 断巫山。
孤灯寒更，
西厢形单，
一腔幽怨结心间，
对星对月带泪弹。
弦弦道爱意，
罡风恶，
情未淡，
三生约，
有神佛鉴，
如咽如诉，
是怨是愤，
似暴风卷狂澜。
推窗看月，
已夜阑珊，
不禁泪雨斑斑。

West-Wing Embroidery

Light smoke at dusk makes the distant mountains dark,
The cold temple's evening bell echoes through distant secluded ravines,
In the night sky, there are faraway geese,
Just like me, a goose separated from the flock.
The phoenix and I were forced to separate for no reason,
A single curve of the moon below the willow,
Our secret meeting among flowers,
Feelings as dreamlike as an illusion.
My heart is tied to this beautiful instrument,
My worries haven't lessened,
Every note is a sigh,
I only wish that the person I love will look out the window,
Bringing a thousand wisps of deep feelings to continue my playing.
Facing the bright and single arc of the moon in vain,
The sad man in the green window has a cold shirt,
That kind of feelings of lovesickness,
Are truly hard to express.
Oh heavens, since we had no fate,
Why did we meet by chance that one day,
Today, the threads of love entwine around,
Just like a silkworm making its cocoon in spring.
Lady regrets the wedding banquet,
Tearing the mandarin ducks apart,
A phrase of "brother" and "sister",
Suddenly causing waves to rise on flat ground.
You say my writing is brilliant,
But I haven't yet grasped the laurel branch,
Wishing to become an esteemed son-in-law,
I should wait until I am clothed in success in officialdom.
The young lady forces herself to drink with her eyebrows knitted like spring mountains,
I am like a clay sculpture or wooden statue,
Unable to taste even a hundred flavors,
In vain have I used my writing to break the siege,
But I have no plan to tie the red knot,
Ashamed to watch the purple swallows fly into the house,
Ashamed to watch the purple swallows fly into the house and murmur.
Indeed, it is bothersome to listen to the temple bells,
The willow tree's shadow sways as if a beautiful woman's eyebrows are moving and her jade earrings are tinkling,
Walking gracefully,
Shadow unsteady,
Only the wind brushes the threshold.
Playing the zither, I lament alone,
Plucking the icy strings with thousands of thoughts,
I wonder who will sing and play with me,
Foolishly and in vain do I hope.
Once upon a time, Sima Xiangru,
With a song of "The Phoenix Seeks Its Mate",
Won Wenjun's heart and intelligence,
Today, my beautiful strings play until they break,
I have only a single lamp,
Unable to find a confidante with a beautiful face.
This zither's sound,
How can the wind of heaven carry it,
Better than passing on poems and letters,
This zither's sound,
Expresses the desolation of a wanderer,
Whose soul has long since been lost in the Wu mountains.
The lonely lamp burns in the cold night,
The Western wing is desolate,
A heart filled with complaints between,
Facing the stars and the moon, I play with tears.
Every string tells of love,
The fierce wind blows,
Feelings not yet faded,
A three-lifetime promise,
Witnessed by the gods and the Buddha,
Like a sob or a complaint,
Is it resentment or anger,
Like a rainstorm causing turbulent waves.
Pushing open the window to look at the moon,
The night is already waning,
Tears fall like rain without end.