Hsieh Ling-yün

《初往新安至桐庐口》是南朝宋诗人谢灵运创作的一首五言古诗，写于作者赴永嘉途中永初三年，经过新安桐庐口的时间大概在七八月之交，故诗中多写秋季景色及观感。 The poem 'From Xin'an to Tonglukou' is a five character ancient poem written by Xie Lingyun, a poet of the Southern Song Dynasty. It was written during the author's journey to Yongjia in the third year of Yongchu, and passed through Tonglukou in Xin'an around the turn of July and August. Therefore, the poem often describes the autumn scenery and observations. 谢灵运·《初往新安至桐庐口》 絺綌虽凄其，授衣尚未至。 感节良已深，怀古亦云思。 不有千里棹，孰申百代意。 远协尚子心，遥得许生计。 既及冷风善，又即秋水驶。 江山共开旷，云日相照媚。 景夕群物清，对玩咸可憙。 In Hsin-An, Setting out from the River's Mouth at T'ung-Lu Hsieh Ling-yün Cold cutting through thin openwork robes and not yet time for gifts of winter clothes: this season always pitches me into depths all grief-clotted thoughts of ancient times. I'll never sail on thousand-mile oars again or think through the hundred generations, but Master Shang's distant mind my own now, and old Master Hsu's recluse ways, I wander these winds boundless and clear, and the headlong rush of autumn streams. Rivers and mountains open way through that alluring luster cloud and sun share, and when twilight's clarity infuses it all, I savor a joy things themselves know here. （David Hinton 译）

谢灵运于宋景平元年（423年）辞去永嘉太守之职，回到始宁的祖居，又营造了一些新的庄园别墅，其一在石门山上（今浙江嵊县境内）。这首诗写的是诗人夜宿于石门别墅的岩石上的所闻。 Xie Lingyun resigned from his position as the Prefect of Yongjia in the first year of the Jingping reign of the Song Dynasty (423 AD) and returned to his ancestral home in Shining. He also built some new estates and villas, one of which was located on Shimen Mountain (now in Sheng County, Zhejiang Province). This poem is about what the poet heard while staying overnight on the rocks of the Shimen Villa. 谢灵运·《夜宿石门》 朝搴苑中兰，畏彼霜下歇。 暝还云际宿，弄此石上月。 鸟鸣识夜栖，木落知风发。 异音同至听，殊响俱清越。 妙物莫为赏，芳醑谁与伐。 美人竟不来，阳阿徒晞发。 Overnight at Stone-Gate Cliffs Hsieh Ling-yün I spent the morning digging out orchids, afraid frost would soon leave them dead, passed the night among fringes of cloud, savoring a moon up beyond all this rock, chortles telling me birds have settled in, falling leaves giving away fresh winds. Sounds weave together in the ear, strange unearthly echoes all crystalline distance, though there's no one to share wonders or the joys in wine's fragrant clarities. We'll never meet again now. I sit beside a stream, sun drying my hair for nothing. （David Hinton 译）