Basic Introduction Chinese Name: Bai Juyi Pipa Author: Dong Qichang Original: Pipa Style: Cursive Original Creation Time: Yuan and Eleven Years (8 16) Original Author: Bai Juyi Original, Translation, Comment, Original I bid farewell to guests on Xunyang River, maple leaves and mature rushes rustle in autumn at night, I, the master, have dismounted and my guests have boarded his boat. 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 a kind of meditation, and every note is a kind of deep thinking, as if she were telling us the pain of her life. She frowned, bent her fingers, and then started her music, letting her heart share everything with us bit by bit. She brushes the strings, twists them slowly, sweeps them and plucks them, first "Nishang" and then "Six Yao". 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, so you can't swallow the spring scenery and flow under the ice. The ice spring is cold and astringent, and the strings condense, and the condensation will never stop. 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. The east ship was silent, and the west ship was silent. We saw the white autumn moon entering the river. She tied it thoughtfully on the rope, stood up and smoothed her clothes, serious and polite. Tell us how she spent her girlhood in the capital and lived in her parents' house in Toad Hill. [Tomb of Frogs (hámá)] and mastered the guitar at the age of thirteen, and her name was recorded on the musician's class list. Her art even attracted the appreciation of experts, and her beauty attracted the envy of all major dancers. How did the aristocratic youths in Wuling compete generously? Countless red silks were given to a song. 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. Lengma was at the door, so at last she gave her wife to a businessman. Who, first of all, stole money, accidentally left her and went to Fuliang to buy tea a month ago. She has been taking care of an empty boat in the estuary, with no companions except the bright moon and cold water. Sometimes in the middle of the night, she dreams of her victory and is awakened from her dream by her hot tears. Her first guitar note made me sigh. Now, after listening to her story, I feel even sadder. 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. My residence is near the town by the river, low and humid, 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 spring morning with flowers and the autumn night with moonlight shining. Of course, there are folk songs and bagpipes in the village, and it is hard to hear the dumb ridicule (Zhao's loud drink). 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. Translate the travel notes of pipa for you. ... 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. In the tenth year of Yuanhe, he was demoted to Jiujiang Sima. One night in the second autumn, I sent a friend to Songpukou and heard someone playing the pipa on the boat. The voice is sonorous and longitudinal, with the charm of Beijing. When I asked the man, I realized that she was a geisha in Chang 'an. He studied pipa with two famous artists, Cao and Mu. As she grew older, her beauty gradually declined, and she had to become a businessman's wife. I ordered the wine and set it up, which made her play a few songs happily. She was very sad when she finished playing. Described the happy scene when I was young; But now, wandering and haggard, wandering in the rivers and lakes! It has been two years since I was demoted from Beijing, and I feel very calm and content with the status quo. After listening to her words that night, I felt the taste of being relegated, so I made this long poem for her, with a total of 6 12 words (in fact, the whole poem is 6 16 words), named Pipa Xing. In the evening, I said goodbye to my friends by Xunyang River. Maple leaves are in full bloom and rustle in the autumn wind. The master got off the horse and walked into a friend's boat. He picked up the wine to drink, but there was no music to entertain him. Gloomily drunk, sad to be separated, to be separated, the vast river flooded in the bright moon. Suddenly I heard the sound of pipa floating on the water. The host forgot to go back and the guests refused to get up. He followed the voice and asked quietly who was playing the pipa. The pipa stopped, but he wanted to speak but didn't. Get close to the boat and let that man come to see you. Add wine, light a lamp, and set a banquet. After repeated calls, she was willing to walk out of the cabin, holding the pipa in her hand and covering half her face. Twisting the spindle, plucking the strings, plucking two or three times, but not yet playing a tune, I am full of emotions. Every string is sighing, and every sound is meditating, as if telling a dissatisfied story. With my eyebrows raised, I continued to play and play, telling an infinite sad event. Close it gently, twist it slowly, wipe it and pick it. I started to play "Nishang", and later I played "Liuyao". The thick strings are noisy, as if it were a sudden storm, and the thin strings are cut off, as if children were whispering. It's so noisy, big beads and small beads are in a mess, all of which are tracts of jade. How hard it is to cross the flower bottom-how fluently it calls and how hard it is to swallow the spring water under the ice! The running water froze, freezing Heizi and Heizi's pipa, and the sound stopped temporarily. In addition, it also reveals a kind of sadness hidden in the deep heart. At this time, there is no sound, but it is more exciting than sound. Suddenly a silver bottle exploded and water slurry rushed in. Suddenly, a group of soldiers came out, and their swords and guns roared. After the bullet is finished, the plucked string crosses the middle of the string, and the four strings make the same sound, as if tearing silk. There was no one talking on the east and west ships, only a full moon shining in the middle of the river. I suspect that swallowing the dial and inserting it on the string, tidying up my clothes and standing up is very respectful. She complained, "Originally, she was a girl from Beijing and lived near the Ranling. At the age of thirteen, he learned to play the pipa, and his name was registered in the first part of the teaching workshop. Playing music won the composer's praise, and makeup often caused Qiu Niang's jealousy. Wuling teenagers rushed to give gifts, and a song was exchanged for countless Wuling Shu brocade. The beating time broke the cloud grate on the head, eating wine and splashing bloody skirts. Laugh this year, laugh next year, and spend many autumn nights and spring gently; The same sister married a soldier, and the procuress died. Ruthless time took away the beautiful beauty. The cars and horses in front of the door are getting thinner and thinner. I married a businessman and followed him here. Businessmen only value profits and don't care about parting. Last month, they went to Fuliang to buy tea for business. Leave me at the mouth of the river, I am alone in this empty boat house. Moonlight around the boat Bai Rushuang, the river is so cold. I suddenly dreamed of my childhood in the middle of the night, full of tears, and I was even sadder when I woke up. ..... "I have sighed after listening to the pipa, and I am even more embarrassed after listening to these words. The same frustrated people wander in the distance, moved together, so what if they didn't know each other before! I have been ill since I left Beijing last year and was demoted to Xunyang. Xunyang is a desolate and remote place, where there is no music and orchestral music can't be played all year round. Living near Ganjiang River, low-lying and humid, around the yard, try to plant some Huang Wei and bitter bamboo. What do you hear here every morning and evening? Except for the cuckoo's cry, there is only the sad cry of the ape. Spring morning and autumn moon night, take out wine, but often drink it by yourself. Are there no folk songs? No village flute? Oh, the dumb taunt, that sound is really ugly! Listening to the music you play with the pipa tonight is like listening to the fairy sound in the sky, and my ears suddenly become open. Don't go, please sit down and play another tune, and I'll write the lyrics for you. The title is pipa. After listening to my words, I stood for a long time, then sat down and plucked the strings, more anxious. Sadly, unlike the voice just now, the whole audience couldn't help crying. Who among them cried the most sadly? Jiangzhou Sima tears wet blue. Comments are long in length, flexible in sentence structure, flat and informal, full of charm and can be changed many times. Songs, lines, quotations (and songs, ballads, folk songs, etc. ) Originally three forms of ancient songs, it originated from Yuefu in the Han and Wei Dynasties. It is one of the names of Yuefu songs and later became a genre in ancient poetry. Pipa Xing was written in the 11th year of Yuanhe (8 16). When Bai Juyi was appointed as an admonition officer, he dared to remonstrate, sympathized with the sufferings of the people, and wrote a lot of satirical poems, which angered Tang Xianzong and offended powerful people. In the tenth year of Yuanhe, Prime Minister Wu was assassinated by Li Shidao, a buffer region. Bai Juyi was in a hurry to hire an assassin, which violated the interests of powerful people. Accused of exceeding his authority, he was demoted to Jiangzhou Secretariat. He was framed for his poems "Appreciating Flowers" and "New Realm" and later demoted to Jiangzhou Sima. Jiangzhou was regarded as a "wild land" at that time. In addition, although the state department horse is nominally a secretariat assistant, it is actually a sinecure, which is a great irony to Bai Juyi. He was demoted, in fact, it was an unjust case, repeatedly hit, feeling sad, full of frustration and anger. The following year, when I was in Pukou, I met a pipa girl and wrote this famous song handed down from ancient times.