Buzo Yongmei
Song luyou
Outside the bridge, the plum blossoms are lonely, no matter what. It's dusk. I'm alone. It's windy and rainy.
Plum blossoms don't want to compete for blooming, and the envy and rejection of flowers don't care. Even after autumn, when it is ground into dirt and turned into dust, plum blossoms still emit fragrance as usual.
1. Notes
Bu () Counting Yongmei: Selected from Wu's Weinan Ci of Shuangfalou Shadow Song Edition, Volume II. Fu is a epigraph name. Also known as "Hundred-foot Building", "Meifeng Wall", "Chu Tianyao" and "Hanging Moon Tree". Shi Mao said: "Luo Yi Bird (Luo) used several names in his poems. People called them' diviners', so he chose this name." . According to the words of the valley,' it seems to support the sale of fortune tellers', covering those who sell fortune tellers today. "
Outside the post: refers to a desolate and deserted place. Post station: a post station, a post horse or a special building for officials to rest halfway.
Broken bridge: A broken bridge. Speaking of "broken" and "hairpin", the hairpin bridge is a bridge that was set up in ancient times to catch crabs.
Loneliness: loneliness, desolation.
No owner: self-destructive, unattended, and happy.
Geng: adverb, zai, zai. Zhu ó: Same as "Wen", suffering and bearing. What's more: I was again.
Unintentional: I don't want to, I have no mind. I don't want to struggle for beauty.
Bitter: Do your best.
Competing for spring: competing with flowers. This refers to the power struggle.
One semester: the whole semester, completely obedient; One: adverbs, complete, complete, without exception. Ren: Verb, whatever.
Fang Qun: Flowers, flowers. Baihua, here refers to the poet's political enemy-the Lord and faction who stole an 'an.
Jealousy (dü): Jealousy.
Autumn: wither, autumn.
Rolling (ni ǐ n): rolling, rolling.
Dust: turn into dust.
As always, the fragrance is still there.
2. Translation
There is a broken bridge outside the post station, and the plum blossoms bloom alone, and no one asks. Twilight arrival, plum blossom is helpless, sad enough, but destroyed by wind and rain.
Plum blossoms don't want to try their best to compete for favor, and they don't care about the jealousy and rejection of flowers. Even if it withers, grinds into mud and turns to dust, plum blossoms still exude a faint fragrance as always.
References:
Ancient poetry network.