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陶渊明——《归园田居》（其一）

少无适俗韵，性本爱丘山。
误落尘网中，一去三十年。
羁鸟恋旧林，池鱼思故渊。
开荒南野际，守拙归田园。
方宅十余亩，草屋八九间。
榆柳荫后椋，桃李罗堂前。
暧暧远人村，依依墟里烟。
狗吠深巷中，鸡鸣桑树颠。
户庭无尘杂，虚室有余闲。
久在樊笼里，复得返自然。

Back to Country Life (I)

I've loathed the madding crowd since I was a boy

While hills and mountains have filled me with joy.

By mistake I sought mundane careers

And got entrapped in them for thirty years.

Birds in the cage would long for wooded hills;

Fish in the pond would yearn for flowing rills.

So I reclaim the land in southern fields

To suit my bent for reaping farmland yields.

My farm contains a dozen mu of ground;

My cottage has eight or nine rooms around.

The elm and willow cover backside eaves

While peach and plum trees shade my yard with leaves.

The distand village dimly looms somewhere,

With smoke from chimneys drifting in the air.

In silent country lanes a stray dog barks;

Amid the mulberry trees cocks crow with larks.

My house is free from worldly moil or gloom

While ease and quiet permeate my private room.

When I escape from bitter strife with men,

I live a free and easy life again.

(汪榕培译)

Return to Nature

While young, I was not used to worldly cares,

And hills became my natural compeers,

But by mistakes I fell in mundane snares

And thus entangled was for thirteen years.

A caged bird would long for wonted wood,

And fish in tanks for native pools would yearn.

Go back to till my southern fields I would.

To live a rustic life why not return?

My plot of ground is but ten acres square;

My thatched cottage has eight or nine rooms.

In front I have peach trees here and plums there;

O'er back eaves willow trees and elms cast glooms.

A village can be seen in distant dark,

Where plumes of smoke rise and waft in the breeze.

In alley deep a dog is heard to bark,

And cocks crow as if o'er mulberry trees.

Into my courtyard no one should intrude,

Nor rob my private rooms of peace and leisure.

After long years of abject servitude, Again in nature I find homely pleasure.

(许渊冲译)

RETURN TO THE COUNTRYSIDE

(The First)

The world's way was not mine,

Even as a small boy.

I was happier

With fields and hills.

Seduced into an official existence

I wasted thirty summers.

Like a caged bird

Still thinking of trees and woods,

Like a fish in the pond

Never forgetting its river,

I return to the countryside,

And open the southern fields

Rather than pay court to Dignity.

I have a farm,

Only a few acres,

And a humble cottage

Of eight or nine rooms.

There are elms and willows

Out back, for shade,

And in the front court

Peaches and plums.

In the dim dusk you can see faroff villages.

Smoke from cooking fires curl high in the air.

Dogs bark, down the deep lanes,

And cicks crow in the mulberry trees.

Nothing worldly crosses my threshold:

It is a house of sweet leisure.

After a life of long servitude

How I relish my return to nature!

(丁祖馨译)

Returning to My Home in the Countryside, No.1

In youth I couldn’t sing to the common tune;

it was my nature to love the mountains and hills.

By mistake I got caught in that dusty snare,

went away once and stayed thirteen years.

The winging bird longs for its old woods,

the fish in the pond thinks of the deeps it once knew.

I’ve opened up some waste land by the southern fields;

stupid as ever, I’ve come home to the country.

My house plot measure ten mou or more,

a grass roof covering eight or nine spans.

Elm and willow shade the back eaves,

peach and damson range in front of the hall.

Dim dim, a village of distant neighbours;

drifting drifting, the smoke from settlements.

A dog barks in the deep lanes,

chickens call from the tops of mulberry trees.

Around my door and courtyard, no dust or clutter;

in my empty rooms, leisure enough to spare.

After so long in that cage of mine,

I’ve come back to things as they are.

(Tranlated by Burton Watson)

Returning to Live in the Country

In my youth I was out of tune with the common folk:

My nature is to love hills and mountains.

In my folly I fell into the net of the world’s dust,

And so went on for thirty years.

The caged bird longs for its old woodland;

The pond-reared fish yarns for its native stream.

I have opened up a waste plot of the south moor,

And keeping my simplicity returned to garden and field.

A homestead of some ten acres,

A thatched cottage with eight or nine rooms;

Elms and willows shading the hinder eaves;

Peach and plum trees ranking before the hall.

Dim, dim is the distant hamlet;

Lagging, lagging hangs the smoke of the market-town;

A dog barks in the deep lane;

A cock crows on the top of the mulberry tree.

My door and courtyard have no dust and turmoil;

In the bare room there is leisure to spare.

Too long a captive in a cage,

I have mow come back to Nature.

(Translated by R.H. Kotewall et al)

Poems on Returning to Dwell in the Country, 1

In youth I had nothing

that matched the vulgar tone,

For my nature always

loved the hills and mountains.

Inadvertently I fell

into the Dusty Net,

Once having gone

it was more than thirteen years.

The tame bird

longs for his old forest—

The fish in the house-pond

thinks of his ancient pool.

I too will break the soil

at the edge of the southern moor,

I will guard simplicity

and return to my field and garden.

My land and house—

a little more than ten acres,

In the thatched cottage—

only eight or nine rooms.

Elms and willows

shade the back veranda,

Peach and plum trees

in rows before the hall.

Hazy and dimly seen

A village in the distance,

Close in the foreground

the smoke of neighbour’s houses.

A dog barks

amidst the deep lanes,

A cock is crowing

atop a mulberry tree.

No dust and confusion

within my doors and courtyard;

In the empty rooms,

more than sufficient leisure.

Too long I was held

within the barred cage.

Now I am able

to turn again to Nature.

(Translated by Cyril Birch)

When I Was Young, I Was out of Tune with the Herd

When I was young, I was out of tune with the herd;

My only love was for the hills and mountains.

Unwitting I fell into the Web of the World’s dust

And was not free until my thirtieth year.

The migrant bird longs for the old wood;

The fish in the tank thinks of its native pool.

I had rescued from wildness a patch of Southern Moor

And, still rustic, I returned to field and garden.

My thatched cottage has eight or nine rooms.

Elms and willows cluster by the eaves;

Peach trees and plum trees grow before the Hall.

Hazy, hazy the distant hamlets of men;

Steady the smoke that hangs over cottage roofs.

A dog barks somewhere in the deep lanes,

A cock crows at the top of the mulberry tree.

At gate and courtyard –no murmur of the world’s dust;

In the empty rooms–leisure and deep stillness.

Long I lived checked by the bars of a cage;

Now I have turned again to Nature and Freedom.

(Translated by Arthur Waley)

Once More Fields and Gardens

Even as a young man

I was out of tune with ordinary pleasures.

It was my nature to love the rooted hills,

The high hills which look upon the four edges of Heaven.

What folly to spend one’s life like a dropped leaf

Snared under the dust of streets,

But for thirteen years it was so lived.

The caged bird longs for the fluttering of high leaves.

The fish in the garden pool languished for

the whirled water of meeting streams.

So I desired to clear and seed a patch of

the wild Southern moor.

And always a countryman at heart,

I have come back to the square enclosures of my fields.

And to my walled garden with its quiet paths.

Mine is a little property of ten mou or so,

A thatched house of eight or nine rooms.

On the North side, the eaves are overhung

With the thick leaves elm-trees,

And willow-trees break the strong force of the wind.

On the South, in front of the great hall,

Peach-trees and plum-trees spread a net of branches

Before the distant view.

The village is hazy, hazy,

And mist sucks over the open moor.

A dog barks in the sunken lane which runs through the village,

A cock crows, perched on a clipped mulberry.

There is no dust or clatter

In the courtyard before my house.

My private rooms are quiet,

And calm with the leisure of moon light through an open door.

For a long time I lived in a cage;

Now I have returned.

For one must return

To fulfill one’s nature.

(Translated by Amy Lowell)

On Returning to a Country Life (I)

My youth was spent amidst the simple charms

Of country scenes—secure from worldly din,

And then, alas! I fell into the net

Of public life, and struggled long therein.

The captive bird laments its forest home;

The fish in tanks think of the sea’s broad strands;

And I oft longed, amidst official cares,

To till a settler’s plot in sunny lands.

And now I have my plot of fifteen mou,

With house thereon of rustic build and thatch;

The elm and willow cast a grateful shade,

While plum and peach trees full the entrance patch.

Away from busy towns and dusty marts,

The dog barks in the silent country land;

While chicken cluck among the mulberry-tree,

And life is healthy and the mined is sane.

Here in my house—with room for friend or two,

On my own farm—won from the barren plain,

Escaped from cares of office and routine,

I live a free and natural life again.

(Translated by Charles Budd)

10.

Back to Garden and Fields

Unfit for worldly things ever since my youthful days,

I love by nature mountains and hills.

Fallen by error into earthly net,

There I remained for a score of years and ten.

A bird in the cage pines for its old forest,

A fish in the pond longs for its original source.

Now I grub up the weeds in the southern countryside,

Living humbly among gardens and rice fields.

On an area of over ten mou,

I built a house with a thatched roof.

Elms and willows spread their shade over the back eaves,

Peach and plum trees grow in front of my house.

Dimly loom the distant villages,

Gracefully curls the chimney smoke.

Dogs bark in the deep lane,

Cocks crow on the top of mulberry trees.

No noise in my house or in the courtyard

But plenty of leisure in my spacious chambers

Having long lived in a cage,

Finally I returned to nature.

(Translated by Patricial Pin-ching Hu)

11.

Returning to My Farm

Young I was witless in the world’s affairs,

My nature wildness and hills prefers;

By mishap fallen into mundane snares,

Once I had left I wasted thirty years.

Birds in the cage long for their wonted woods,

Fish in the pool for former rivers yearn.

I clear the wildness that stretches south,

Hiding my defects homeward I return.

Ten acres built with scattered house square,

Beside the thatched huts eight or nine in all;

The elms and willows shade the hindmost eaves,

While peach and pear-trees spread before the hall.

While smoke form nearby huts hangs in the breeze;

A dog is barking in the alley deep;

A cock crows from the chump of mulberry trees.

Within my courtyard all is clear of dust,

Where tranquil in my leisure I remain.

Long have I been imprisoned in the cage;

Now back to Nature I return again.

(Translated by Andrew Boyd)

12.

Back to the Garden and Fields (1)

From my youth I have loved the hills and mountains,

Never was my nature suited fir the world of men,

By mistake have I been entangled in the dusty web,

Lost in its snare for thirteen long years.

The fettered bird longs for its old wood,

The fish in the pond craves for its early pool.

Back to my land I cling to solitude,

To till the soil in the open south country.

My plot of ground is only a few acres square,

The thatched roof covers eight or nine rooms,

The back eaves are shaded by elms and willows,

Rows of peach-and plum-trees stand in my front court.

The hamlets spread out in the hazy distance,

Where chimney smokes seem to waft in mid-air;

And the dog barks in the deep lane,

And the cock crows on the mulberry top.

In the vacant rooms there is ease and quiet.

Long have I lain within the prison of men,

Now I am to return to nature and its ways.

(Translated by Roland C. Fang)