辛棄疾絕少寫自己的愛情經(jīng)歷,偶一為之,便迥異諸家,帶著一種擊節(jié)高歌的悲涼氣息。卻少有婉轉(zhuǎn)纏綿之意。此詞即是其例。據(jù)鄧廣銘《稼軒詞編年箋注》,此詞可能是淳熙五年(1178)自江西帥召為大理少卿時(shí)作。覽其詞意,當(dāng)是作者年青時(shí)路過池州東流縣,結(jié)識一位女子,這回經(jīng)過此地,重訪不遇,感發(fā)而作此詞。
辛棄疾·《念奴嬌》
野塘花落,
又匆匆過了清明時(shí)節(jié)。
鏟地東風(fēng)期限客夢,
一枕云屏寒怯。
曲岸持觴,
垂楊系馬,
此地曾經(jīng)別。
樓空人去,
舊游飛燕能說。
聞道綺陌東頭,
行人曾見,
簾底纖纖月。
舊恨春江流不盡,
新恨云山千疊。
料得明朝,
尊前重見,
鏡花難折。
也應(yīng)驚問:
近來多少華發(fā)?
Lines Written on a Wall of Dongliu Village
(To the Tune of Niannujiao)
Xin Qiji
Wild pear blossoms start falling again,
so soon, the Qingming festival over.
The cruel eastern wind, for no reason,
Interrupts a traveler’s dream.
I awake, the brocade curtain
Devastatingly cold. Once,
she held the drink to me
on the winding river bank,
and we bade farewell to each other
under a weeping willow tree
with my horse tethered to it.
Now, the pavilion deserted,
there is no trace of her,
only the swallows twittering about bygones.
She’s been seen, people say,
east of the bustling thoroughfare,
behind the curtain, still as graceful
as the new moon. Old regrets
run like the endless spring water.
New griefs pile up
like the clouds over the mountains.
If we were going to meet again,
at a banquet, to tell her all this
would be as impossible
as to pluck the flower from a mirror.
She would say, perhaps,
How white your hair has grown!