詩(shī)詞大意:天然生長(zhǎng)高達(dá)百尺的大樹,無端的砍伐后成了一根長(zhǎng)長(zhǎng)的樹干??上н@樣的棟梁之材,被拋棄在幽僻的山谷之中。過了很多年,外面的樹皮都腐爛剝落了,里面的樹心依然堅(jiān)硬??此埔呀?jīng)腐朽,懂得的人拿到它,還可以用作馬廄的支柱。
寒山·《天生百尺樹》
天生百尺樹,剪作長(zhǎng)條木。
年多心尚勁,日久皮漸禿。
識(shí)者取將來,猶堪柱馬屋。
Company
Lumbermen assail the immortals’ trees,
Plane them into measured plans,
Busily hewing them to a woodsman’s tune.
Abandoned, unaccountably, sprawled
In a sunless valley, their fiber holds
Though their hearts turn gray and their skin festers.
Might an old man carry them away?
It takes little to raise a cottager’s beams.
(Peter Stambler 譯)
When Heaven produces one-hundred-foot trees,
They can be cut into long and strong boards.
How sad that this “material for pillars and beams”
Is abandoned in some hidden vale.
Its years may be numerous, but its heart is still strong;
So many its days—its bark gradually getting bare.
But if one who knows worth comes and takes it,
It can still be used for some stable “post.”
(Robert. G. Henricks 譯)
Hundred-foot trees produced by Heaven
get sawed into giant planks
unfortunate building timber
gets left in a hidden valley
its heart stays strong despite the years
its bark falls off day after day
if some astute person took it away
it still could prop up a stable
(Red Pine 譯)