Song lyric · ci lyric in two stanzas宋词 · 词·双调

dù渡jiāng江yún云·shān山yīn阴jiǔ久kè客yí一zài再féng逢chūn春huí回yì忆xī西háng杭miǎo渺rán然chóu愁sī思

zhāng张yán炎Zhang Yan · Song宋

Du Jiang Yun: A Long Guest in Shanyin, Meeting Spring Again and Remembering Hangzhou

shān山kōng空tiān天rù入hǎi海

yǐ倚lóu楼wàng望jí极

fēng风jí急mù暮cháo潮chū初

yì一lián帘jiū鸠wài外yǔ雨

jǐ几chù处xián闲tián田

gé隔shuǐ水dòng动chūn春chú锄

xīn新yān烟jìn禁liǔ柳

xiǎng想rú如jīn今lǜ绿dào到xī西hú湖

yóu犹jì记de得dāng当nián年shēn深yǐn隐

mén门yǎn掩liǎng两sān三zhū株

chóu愁yú余

huāng荒zhōu洲gǔ古xù溆

duàn断gěng梗shū疏píng萍

gèng更piāo漂liú流hé何chù处

kōng空zì自jué觉wéi围xiū羞dài带jiǎn减

yǐng影qiè怯dēng灯gū孤

cháng常yí疑jí即jiàn见táo桃huā花miàn面

shèn甚jìn近lái来fān翻zhì致wú无shū书

shū书zòng纵yuǎn远

rú如hé何mèng梦yě也dōu都wú无

Underlined words have notes: tap one. The Pinyin button below shows or hides all pinyin. 一 and 不 are marked with the tone you actually say.字下有虚线的，点开有注释。下方的“拼音”按钮可以显示或隐藏全部拼音。“一”“不”标的是实际读出来的变调。

Our source gives only the tune name. Common editions add a long title: "A long guest in Shanyin, meeting spring again and again, I remember Hangzhou, and my sorrow is vast." In line eighteen our source has a different verb ("laugh" instead of "bring about"). Its last line is also missing one character, the word for "dream". We follow the common editions.

底本题目只有词牌，通行本有小序式的题目“山阴久客，一再逢春，回忆西杭，渺然愁思”。底本“甚近来、翻笑无书”，通行本作“翻致无书”；底本末句“如何也都无”少了一个字，通行本作“如何梦也都无”。这里用通行本。

Line by line逐句翻译

山空天入海The hills are empty; the far sky seems to sink into the sea.山上空空荡荡，远天好像落进了海里，
倚楼望极Leaning on the tower rail, I look as far as I can.我靠着楼栏，望向最远的地方，
风急暮潮初The wind blows hard as the evening tide begins to rise.风吹得很急，傍晚的潮水刚刚涨起来。
一帘鸠外雨Doves are calling, and rain hangs like a curtain beyond them.斑鸠声声，细雨像一道帘子挂在那边，
几处闲田Here and there lie idle fields,有几块闲着的田地，
隔水动春锄and across the water people have begun their spring hoeing.隔着水，人们已经开始春耕锄地。
新烟禁柳After the Cold Food days new smoke rises and the willows bud.寒食过后升起新烟，柳树发了新芽，
想如今绿到西湖I imagine the green has now spread all the way to West Lake.想来如今，那绿色已经一直铺到西湖了。
犹记得当年深隐I still remember how I lived hidden away there in those years,我还记得，当年我在那里深深地隐居，
门掩两三株my gate half hidden by two or three trees.两三棵树把门半掩着。
愁余How it fills me with sorrow.这让我多么发愁。
荒洲古溆Wild sandbars, ancient riverbanks,荒凉的沙洲，古老的水边，
断梗疏萍I am like a broken stem, like scattered duckweed;我像折断的草茎、零散的浮萍，
更漂流何处where will I drift to next?又要漂到哪里去呢？
空自觉围羞带减I alone know that my waist has shrunk and my belt hangs loose,只是自己知道，腰围瘦了，衣带松了，
影怯灯孤and my lonely shadow by the lamp is frightening.灯下孤单的影子都叫人害怕。
常疑即见桃花面I often think I will soon see that face like peach blossoms,我常常以为，马上就能见到那张桃花般的脸，
甚近来翻致无书so why, lately, has not even a letter come?为什么近来反而连一封信都没有？
书纵远Even if letters cannot come so far,就算书信因为路远送不到，
如何梦也都无why do not even dreams come at all?为什么连梦也一个都不来？

Words字词注释

山空天入海shān kōng tiān rù hǎi: shān kōng tiān rù hǎi: the hills are empty, and far off the sky seems to sink into the sea.山空天入海：山上空荡荡的，远处的天好像一直伸进了海里。
望极wàng jí: wàng jí: to look as far as the eye can see.望极：望到最远的地方。
暮潮mù cháo: mù cháo: the evening tide.暮潮：傍晚涨起的潮水。
鸠外雨jiū wài yǔ: jiū wài yǔ: rain falling beyond the calls of the turtledoves. An old saying holds that when doves call, rain is coming.鸠外雨：斑鸠叫声之外飘着的雨。老话说斑鸠一叫，就要下雨。
动春锄dòng chūn chú: dòng chūn chú: the spring hoeing begins in the fields.动春锄：春天开始锄地耕田。
新烟xīn yān: xīn yān: new smoke. During the Cold Food Festival no fires were lit. When fires were lit again afterward, the new smoke rose.新烟：寒食节禁止生火，节后重新点火，冒出的烟叫新烟。
禁柳jìn liǔ: jìn liǔ: one reading is the willows in the palace gardens; another is the willows of the no-fire festival season.禁柳：一说指皇宫园林里的柳树，一说指禁火时节的柳树。
深隐shēn yǐn: shēn yǐn: living hidden away, far from the busy world.深隐：藏在很深的地方隐居。
两三株liǎng sān zhū: liǎng sān zhū: two or three trees, usually taken to be willows, half hiding the gate.两三株：两三棵树（多理解为柳树），把门遮住了。
愁余chóu yú: chóu yú: it makes me sad. The phrase comes from the old Chu Ci poems.愁余：使我发愁。这是从《楚辞》里“目眇眇兮愁予”来的说法。
古溆gǔ xù: gǔ xù: an old riverbank. Xù means the water's edge.古溆：古老的水边。溆，水边。
断梗疏萍duàn gěng shū píng: duàn gěng shū píng: broken stems and scattered duckweed drifting on the water. They stand for the poet, who has no fixed home.断梗疏萍：折断的草茎、稀稀落落的浮萍，在水上随波漂流，用来比喻漂泊不定的自己。
围羞带减wéi xiū dài jiǎn: wéi xiū dài jiǎn: the waist has shrunk and the belt hangs loose, so much that he feels ashamed. It means he has grown thin with worry.围羞带减：腰围变小，衣带变松，自己都不好意思。说人因为忧愁变瘦了。
影怯灯孤yǐng qiè dēng gū: yǐng qiè dēng gū: by the lonely lamp there is only his own shadow, so lonely it frightens him.影怯灯孤：灯下只有自己孤单的影子，冷清得叫人害怕。
桃花面táo huā miàn: táo huā miàn: a face as lovely as peach blossoms. The Tang poet Cui Hu wrote of a face and peach blossoms glowing red together. Here it means the person he misses.桃花面：像桃花一样美的脸。唐代崔护有“人面桃花相映红”的诗句，这里指思念的人。
即见jí jiàn: jí jiàn: to see very soon.即见：马上就能见到。
翻致无书fān zhì wú shū: fān zhì wú shū: instead, not even a letter comes. Fān means "on the contrary"; shū means a letter.翻致无书：反而连一封信都没有了。翻，反而。书，书信。
纵zòng: zòng: even if.纵：即使。

How to read it读音

甚shèn: Here this character means "why, how come". It is usually read shèn today; some read it shén.“甚”在这里是“为什么、怎么”的意思，现在一般读 shèn；一说读 shén。
余yú: Here this character means "me" and is read yú.“余”在这里是“我”的意思，读 yú。

Background创作背景

After the Southern Song fell, Zhang Yan lost his home and spent many years wandering. The title tells the story. He had been a guest in Shanyin (today's Shaoxing in Zhejiang) for a long time. Spring came again and again, and he thought of Hangzhou, his heart filled with a vast, vague sorrow. Hangzhou was where he grew up, and it had been the Southern Song capital. So he missed not only his hometown but also the old life that was lost.

南宋灭亡以后，张炎失去了家，长年在外漂泊。这首词的题目说得很清楚：他在山阴（今浙江绍兴）做客很久，一次又一次碰上春天，回想起西杭（杭州），心中一片茫茫的愁思。杭州是他从小生活的地方，也是南宋的都城，所以他想念的不只是家乡，还有已经失去的旧日生活。

The poet作者

Zhang Yan (1248–about 1320), courtesy name Shuxia, pen name Yutian, was a lyric poet at the end of the Southern Song and a descendant of the general Zhang Jun. After the Song fell his family was ruined, and he wandered from place to place, living in Shanyin, Siming and elsewhere. His lyrics often show the loneliness of a wanderer and longing for the lost country, in a clear, graceful style.

张炎（1248—约1320），字叔夏，号玉田，南宋末年的词人，是名将张俊的后代。宋亡后家道败落，他四处漂泊，在山阴、四明等地住过。他的词常写漂泊的孤独和对故国的怀念，风格清雅。

The mood意境

The first stanza starts with what the poet sees. He leans on a tower and looks far off. The sky meets the sea, the wind is strong, the tide rises, doves call in the rain, and across the water farmers begin their spring work. This is spring in Shanyin. Seeing all this green, he thinks West Lake must be green now too. He remembers living quietly in Hangzhou, with two or three trees by his gate. The livelier the spring before him, the more he misses home. The second stanza turns to himself. Like a broken stem or drifting duckweed, he does not know where he will go next. He has grown thin, and at night there is only a lonely lamp and his shadow. He hopes to see the one he misses, but not even a letter comes. The last two lines are the most moving. If letters cannot travel so far, fine. But why will not even a dream come? When he cannot meet them even in dreams, his loneliness is complete.

上片从眼前写起：诗人靠在楼上远望，天连着海，风急潮涨，斑鸠在雨里叫，隔水的农人开始春耕。这是山阴的春天。看着这片绿，他想到西湖现在也该绿了，又想起自己当年在杭州隐居，门口有两三棵树。眼前的春天越热闹，他越想家。下片转到自己：他像断梗浮萍一样，不知道还要漂到哪里；人瘦了，夜里只有孤灯和影子。他盼望见到想念的人，却连信都没有。最后两句最打动人：信远送不到也就罢了，可为什么连梦都不来？连做梦也见不到，孤独到了极点。