It is often heard that the immortals in Xiangshui are good at playing the piano and singing.
Beautiful music makes Feng, the river god, dance and dance, which is unbearable for travelers who travel far away.
Deep and sad melody, even hard stones are moved by sadness; The sonorous, high-pitched musical tone is so penetrating that it has been flying to lofty places.
Cangwu complains, and Angelica dahurica is fragrant.
Music flows along the water to Xiangjiang River, and then into the lake, flying over the vast Dongting Lake.
The music is quiet, but there is no drums of the water god. The river disappears, revealing several peaks, which are green and charming.
Interpretation of vernacular Chinese: It is often said that the god of water is good at playing clouds and making tools. Beautiful music makes Feng Yi, the river god, dance, but travelers from afar can't bear to listen. Deep and sad melody, even hard stones are moved and sad; Clear and high-pitched music, with such strong penetrating power, has been flying to the lofty and boundless place.
When such wonderful music reached the wilderness of Cangwu, even the spirit of Shun Di, who was resting on Jiuyi Mountain, was moved by it, giving birth to complaints and longings; And Angelica dahurica, which grows in Cangwu area, also spits out more fragrance under the inspiration of music. The music spread along the running water to Xiangjiang River, turned into a hate platform and flew over the vast Dongting Lake. At the end of the song, people dispersed and were silent, but there was no goddess Xiang Shui. The smoke on the river dissipates, revealing several peaks, which are beautiful and charming.
2,' Pipa Xing' Tang Dynasty: Bai Juyi
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.
Interpretation of vernacular Chinese: suddenly listening to the sound of pipa on the river; I forgot to return, and the guests didn't want to leave. Find the sound source and ask who is playing the pipa. Pipa stopped for a long time but nothing happened. We brought the boat closer and invited her out to meet; Tell the servant to add more wine, and then set the banquet under the lamp. It was a long time before she came out slowly, holding the pipa in her arms and covering her face half. Tighten the piano shaft, pluck the strings and try to play a few times; Form is very affectionate before it becomes a tune.
The sad sound of the strings suggests meditation; It seems to be telling the frustration of her life; She kept her head down and kept playing; Tell the infinite past in your heart with the sound of the piano. Close it gently, twist it slowly, wipe it and pick it. Play "Colorful Feather" at the beginning and then "Liuyao". The big string is long and noisy, like a storm; Xiaoxian is gentle and quiet, as if someone is whispering. Noise and tangles are played alternately; Like a string of beads falling from a jade plate.
Pipa sounds like a smooth birdsong under a flower for a while, and then it sounds like a difficult, low and intermittent sound of water flowing under the ice. It seems that the cold and astringent pipa sound of the spring began to condense, and the sound of poor condensation gradually stopped. Like another kind of sadness and hatred secretly breeds; At this time, it is more touching than the sound.
Suddenly, it seems that the silver bottle broke into the water and splashed; Like armored cavalry fighting with swords and guns. At the end of the song, she aimed at the center of the strings and parted them; The roar of four strings seems to tear the cloth. People from the East Ship and the West Ship listened quietly; I saw Bai Yue reflected in the middle of the river.
3. "Born a scorpion, shameful and full of green rings" Song Dynasty: Ouyang Xiu.
I am ashamed of my life, and I am proud of my concern.
Yan zhen thirteen strings, a spring warbler.
Jiao Yun is easy to fly, but you never know where your dream is.
The deep courtyard is locked at dusk, and there are bursts of banana rain.
Interpretation of vernacular Chinese: Jiao seems to be ashamed to sip his hair, smiling frequently and looking around. The jade hand flicks its fingers, the guzheng sounds euphemistic and cheerful, and the strings fly, just like the affectionate whisper of a spring warbler. At the end of the song, people go like flying clouds, leaving only a delicate figure. I don't know where to look for spring dreams. The courtyard is deep, locked with loneliness and dusk, and the sound of raindrops hitting bananas.
4,' Wendy' Tang Dynasty: Zhao Wei.
Who is playing the flute and drawing in the building? Intermittent sounds are accompanied by intermittent winds.
Very sonorous in the sky, Leng Yue in the shade.
Huan Zi, a farmer from Xinglai, wrote an article to Ma Rong.
I don't know if people are here, but it's loud and empty.
Interpretation of vernacular Chinese: Who plays the flute in the beautiful pavilion? The sweet flute sounded intermittently with the breeze. The sound of the flute is loud, just like a cloud floating across the blue sky, stopping it from coming and going. When the flute is peaceful, it's like coming to my bed with a cold moonlight. The flute is beautiful, just like the three tunes that Huan Yi played for Wang Huizhi when he was happy; The elegance of the tune reminds people of the words in Ma Rong's Defoe. After singing a song, I don't know whether the player is still painting the floor, but the loud flute seems to have been floating in the air for a long time.
5,' Jiangchengzi River View' Song Dynasty: Su Shi
Phoenix Mountain Chu Qing is rainy, the water is clear and the sunset is bright.
A lotus flower is still blooming.
Where do the double herons fly? Mu Pingting if you are interested.
Suddenly, I heard that there was mourning for Zheng on the river, which was bitter and affectionate. Who will be sent to monitor?
Smoke gathers in the clouds, which is auspicious according to the agreement.
I want to ask for it at the end of the song, not seeing it, counting the peaks.
Interpretation of vernacular Chinese: At the foot of Phoenix Mountain, Chu Qingyu passed, the clouds cleared and the sunset was bright. A lotus, though gone, is still beautiful and clean. A pair of egrets flew from somewhere, and they also intended to appreciate the beauty of the pianist.
Suddenly I heard the sad tone on the river, full of sorrow, and who had the heart to listen? The fog is astringent and the clouds are colored. This piece of music is like the goddess Xiang Shui playing the harp to pour out her sorrow. At the end of the song, she had drifted away, only to see Qingfeng still standing quietly by the lake, as if the sad music was still rippling between mountains and rivers.