小编导读:《葬花辞》是清代文学家曹雪芹的小说《红楼梦》第二十七回中女主角林黛玉所吟诵的一首古体诗。此诗通过丰富而奇特的想象,暗淡而凄清的画面,浓烈而忧伤的情调,展示了黛玉在冷酷现实摧残下的心灵世界,表达了她在生与死、爱与恨复杂的斗争过程中所产生的一种焦虑体验和迷茫情感。它是林黛玉感叹身世遭遇的全部哀音的代表,也是曹雪芹借以塑造黛玉这一艺术形象、表现其性格特性的重要作品。
《红楼梦·葬花辞》
花谢花飞飞满天,
红消香断有谁怜?
游丝软细飘春榭,
落絮轻沾扑绣帘。
闺中女儿惜春暮,
愁绪满怀无释处;
手把花锄出绣帘,
忍踏落花来复去?
柳丝榆荚自芳菲,
不管桃飘与李飞;
桃李明年能再发,
明年闺中知有谁?
三月香巢已垒成,
梁间燕子太无情!
明年花发虽可啄,
却不道人去梁空巢已倾。
一年三百六十日,
风刀霜剑严相逼;
明媚鲜妍能几时,
一朝漂泊难寻觅。
花开易见落难寻,
阶前闷杀葬花人;
独把花锄泪暗洒,
洒上空枝见血痕。
杜鹃无语正黄昏,
荷锄归去掩重门。
青灯照壁人初睡,
冷雨敲窗被未温。
怪侬底事倍伤神?
半为怜春半恼春:
怜春忽至恼忽去,
至又无言去不闻。
昨宵庭外悲歌发,
知是花魂与鸟魂?
花魂鸟魂总难留,
鸟自无言花自羞;
愿侬胁下生双翼,
随花飞到天尽头。
天尽头!
何处有香丘?
未若锦囊收艳骨,
一抔净土掩风流;
质本洁来还洁去,
不教污淖陷渠沟。
尔今死去侬收葬,
未卜侬身何日丧?
侬今葬花人笑痴,
他年葬侬知是谁?
试看春残花渐落,
便是红颜老死时。
一朝春尽红颜老,
花落人亡两不知!
Burial of Fallen Flowers
As blossoms fade and fly across the sky,
Who pities the faded red, the scent that has been?
Softly the gossamer floats over spring pavilions,
Gently the willow fluff wafts to the embroidered screen.
A girl in her chamber mourns the passing of spring,
No relief from anxiety her poor heart knows;
Hoe in hand she steps through her portal,
Loath to treat on the blossom as she comes and goes,
Willows and elms, fresh and verdant,
Care not if peach and plum blossom drift away;
Next year the peach and plum blossom will bloom again,
But her chamber may stand empty on that day.
By the third month the scented nests are built,
But the swallows on the beam are heartless all;
Next year, though once again you may peck the buds,
From the beam of an empty room your nest will fall.
Each year for three hundred and sixty days,
The cutting wind and biting frost contend.
How long can beauty flower fresh and fair?
In a single day wind can whirl it to its end.
Fallen, the brightest blooms are hard to find;
With aching heart their grave-digger comes now
Alone, her hoe in hand, her secret tears,
Falling like drops of blood on each bare bough.
Dusk falls and the cuckoo is silent;
Her hoe brought back, the lodge is locked and still;
A green lamp lights the wall as sleep enfolds her,
Gold rain pelts the casement and her quilt is chill.
What causes my two-fold anguish?
Love for spring and resentment of spring;
For suddenly it comes and suddenly goes,
Its arrival unheralded, noiseless its departing.
Last night from the courtyard floated a sad song—
Was it the soul of blossom, the soul of birds?
Hard to detain, the soul of blossom or birds,
For blossoms have no assurance, birds no words.
I long to take wing and fly
With the flowers to earth’s uttermost bound;
And yet at earth’s uttermost bound
Where can a fragrant burial mound be found?
Better shroud the fair petals in silk
With clean earth for their outer attire;
For pure you came and pure shall go,
Not sinking into some foul ditch or mire.
Now you are dead I come to bury you;
None has divined the day when I shall die;
Men laugh at my folly in burying fallen flowers,
But who will bury me when dead I lie?
See, when spring draws to a close and flowers fall,
This is the season when beauty must ebb and fade;
The day that spring takes wing and beauty fades
Who will care for the fallen blossom or dead maid?