In the evening, I bid farewell to a guest on Xunyang River. Maple leaves and mature rushes rustle in autumn. I, the host, have dismounted, my guest has boarded his boat, and we raise our cups, hoping to drink-but, alas, there is no music.

Although we drank a lot of wine, we were not happy. When we were leaving each other, the river mysteriously widened in the direction of the full moon. We heard a sudden sound, a guitar crossed the water, the host forgot to go home and the guests left.

We followed the direction of the melody and asked the player's name, and the voice was interrupted ... and then she reluctantly answered. We moved the boat closer to hers, invited her to join us, and summoned more wine and lanterns to start our party again.

However, before she came to us, we called a thousand times and urged her for a thousand times, but she still hid half of her face behind her guitar from us. ... she turned the tuning pin and tested several strings, and even before she played, we could feel her feelings.

Every string is thought-provoking, and every note is thought-provoking. It seems that he has been frustrated all his life. She frowned, bent her fingers, and then started her music, letting her heart share everything with us bit by bit.

Slowly twist and pick again, first the air in the rainbow skirt, then the six small ones. Big strings hum like rain, and small strings whisper like secrets.

Humming, whispering-and then mixing together, like pouring large and small pearls into a plate of jade. Between Guan Ying's words, the bottom of the flower is slippery, and spring water flows along the beach.

By checking its cold touch, this string seems to be broken, as if it can't pass; And notes, fade away. The depth of sadness and the hiding of sadness are more told in silence than in voice.

A silver vase suddenly burst, pouring out a stream of water, jumping out of the conflict and blow between armored horses and weapons. Before she put down the pick, her stroke was over, and all four strings made a sound, just like tearing silk.

There is a quiet boat in the east and a quiet boat in the west, but see the new autumn moon in the river. Put it thoughtfully on the strings and straighten out the clothes.

Tell us how she spent her girlhood in the capital and lived in her parents' house in Toad Hill. She mastered the guitar at the age of thirteen, and her name ranked first in the list of musicians.

Qu Ba often teaches good talents to serve, and she pretends to be Qiu Niangju. Wuling teenagers fight for their heads, and a song gives countless rolls of red silk.

The silver comb inlaid with shells was broken by her rhythm, and the bloody skirt was stained with wine. Season after season, joy followed, and neither the autumn moon nor the spring breeze attracted her attention.

Until her brother went to war, and then her aunt died, and the night passed, and the night came, and her beauty disappeared. There were fewer and fewer cars and horses in front of the door, and finally she married herself to a businessman.

Who, first of all, stole money, accidentally left her and went to Fuliang to buy tea a month ago. Go to Jiangkou and ask for an empty boat. It will be cold around the boat.

Sometimes in the middle of the night, she will dream of her victory, and her makeup will turn red and her tears will dry up. Her first guitar note made me sigh, and I heard it again.

We were all unhappy until the end of the day, when we met. We understand. What is the relationship between acquaintances? . A year ago, I left the capital and came here. Now I am a sick Jiujiang exile.

Jiujiang is so far away that I haven't heard music, neither strings nor bamboo sounds for a whole year. The humidity near Cannes is very low, and the house is surrounded by bitter reeds and yellow rushes.

What can you hear here in the morning and evening? ? The cuckoo's bleeding cry, the ape's sobbing. I often pick up the wine and drink it alone in the morning of spring with flowers and the night of autumn with moonlight shining.

Of course, there are folk songs and bagpipes in the village, but they are rough and harsh, and they are harsh in my ears. Tonight, when I heard you playing the guitar, I felt that my hearing was illuminated by wonderful music.

Don't leave us. Come, sit down. Play it for us again. I will write a Long song about the guitar ... She was moved by my words, stood there for a while, and then sat down to play her strings-they sounded even sadder.

Although the tune was different from what she had played before, all the listeners covered their faces. But which of them cried the most? ? This Jiujiang official. My blue sleeves are wet.

Translation:

In the evening, I said goodbye to my friends at the head of Xunyang River. It is the time when the autumn wind is rustling, blowing maple leaves and blooming. The host and guests got off the horse and got on the boat. They want to raise their glasses and drink goodbye, but there is no music to match them. We are a little drunk and will leave soon. We feel very painful. When I left, I saw that the river was white and the moonlight was immersed in the vast river. Suddenly the sound of pipa notes came from the water, making the host forget to turn around and the guests forget to start.

So, looking for the voice, he secretly asked: "Who is the player?" The pipa stopped, and the man seemed to want to say something and hesitated again. We moved the boat close to her and invited her to meet; Add tables, move lights, and rearrange the party. She didn't come out until we shouted thousands of times. When she came out, she still covered half her face with a pipa shyly. She turned around, plucked the chord and tried to play it three or two times. Before she finished playing the song, she was full of feelings. Every string is low and sad, and the voice is full of worries, as if telling how frustrated and frustrated he is in life. She continued to pluck her hair at random with a low eyebrow, telling her endless sad story. She held back gently, fiddled slowly, sometimes dialed down, sometimes picked it up, playing "colorful feathers" first, then "green waist". The noisy voice of the big string is like a sudden rain, and the serious voice of the small string is like a lover's whisper. Big strings are noisy, and small strings are cut and staggered, as if big beads and small beads fell from the jade plate. Notes flow, like the sound of orioles sliding under flowers; The notes are blocked, as if the running water meets the beach and suffocates. Finally, the spring water is cold and astringent, and the piano is endless; The piano is broken. Let's have a rest. At this moment, in addition, there is a faint sadness and a secret regret; Although there is no sound, the realm is better than when there is sound. Suddenly, the music started again, just like a silver bottle suddenly burst and water slurry gushed out; Just like the armored cavalry trying to break through the encirclement, the sword roared. At the end of the music, she swept the strings in the middle, and four strings made a broken sound. At this time, all the ships around quietly could not say a word, only the bright autumn moon was reflected in the middle of the river.

She sighed thoughtfully, let go of the dial and inserted the strings: she adjusted her clothes and appeared a serious face. She herself said, "I was originally a girl from Beijing, and my family lived near the Ranling. At the age of thirteen, I learned the pipa, and my name is still in the first team of the teaching workshop! After the music is played, the pipa master can enjoy it; Combed makeup often makes sisters jealous. The aristocratic children in Wuling area scrambled to give me a gift from Baotou, and they got countless red yarns after playing a song. The hair inlaid with buds was broken during the beat, and the bloody skirt was stained by spilled wine, which didn't feel good. The days of laughter have passed this year and next year; The autumn moon and the spring breeze, the beautiful scenery of its moments passed inadvertently. My brother left to join the army and my aunt died. As the days passed, my face grew old. The front door is deserted, and the cars and horses are getting thinner; When I get old, I want to marry a businessman as my wife. Businessmen value interests and leave at will. Last month, they went to Fuliang to buy and sell tea. After he left, I was left alone on the empty boat in the estuary, surrounded by bright autumn moon and cold river water. In the middle of the night, I suddenly dreamed of all kinds of happy things when I was a child. I woke up crying in my dream, and tears crisscrossed my pink face. 」

I sighed when I heard her pipa music, and I was sad and sighed again and again after listening to her words! Alas! She and I are also frustrated at the end of the world. Why should we know each other when we meet by chance? Since I left Beijing last year, I have been demoted and ill in Xunyang City. Xunyang is a very remote place, and there is really no good music. For a whole year, I haven't heard the wonderful music of silk and bamboo! My place is near the Ganjiang River, and the terrain is low and wet. The house is surrounded by yellow reeds and bitter bamboo. What will be heard here sooner or later? Alas! Only the cuckoo cries blood, and the ape cries sadly. In the morning when flowers bloom by the riverside, and in the bright night of autumn moon, I often pick up the wine alone and pour myself into it. Will there be no folk songs and village flute here and there? It's just too noisy It's hard to hear. Listening to your pipa tonight is like listening to Yue Xian, and my ears are temporarily refreshed. Please don't refuse, and then sit down! Let me make a pipa poem for you, too!

Feeling what I said, she stood for a long time, then retreated to her seat and tightened her strings, playing the pipa more vigorously. The tune is sad, unlike the previous music. Hearing this, everyone hid their faces and wept. Who shed the most tears in the seat? It is Jiangzhou Sima (Bai Juyi) that the whole blueprint is soaked with tears!

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