六醜 薔薇謝後作
周邦彥 (1056 - 1121)
正單衣試酒，恨客裏光陰虛擲。
願春暫留，春歸如過翼，一去無跡。
為問花何在，夜來風雨，葬楚宮傾國。
釵鈿墮處遺香澤。亂點桃蹊，輕翻柳陌。
多情為誰追惜。但蜂媒蝶使，時叩窗隔。
東園岑寂，漸蒙籠暗碧。靜繞珍叢底，成歎息。
長條故惹行客，似牽衣待話，別情無極。
殘英小、強簪巾幘。終不似一朵，釵頭顫嫋，向人欹側。
漂流處、莫趁潮汐。恐斷紅尚有相思字，何由見得。
Liu
Chou Written after the roses have withered Zhou
Bangyan (1056 - 1121)
Sampling the new wine in my summer wear,
I regret having frittered away my time as a
sojourner,
I wish spring could stay for a while longer,
But it passes like a pair of wings, leaving not a
single trace after;
Where the blossoms are?
It has been stormy in the vesper,
Burying the devastating beauties of the imperial
parlours,
Where their exquisite figures have fallen, traces of
fragrance still linger,
Their petals dot the peach trails and amidst the willows
they fritter;
Rose! Rose! So much full of love you are,
But who will be so sentimental as to cherish the
memory of your glamour;
Only bees and butterflies as match-makers
Keep knocking on the casements you to ask after;
The east garden turns quieter,
Slowly, a green gloom takes over,
Sighing, amidst the rosebushes I loiter,
Their stems pluck at my clothes seeming to have a message to deliver,
How infinitely sentimental they are;
I pick up a fallen rose blossom to stick under my
headscarf,
But it looks so tiny,
Hardly an ornament to wear,
Still less can it compare with a spray of fresh rose
on a lady’s hair with the hairpin that quivers;
Rose! Rose! You must not fall where the water is
near,
Lest you will drift away with the water,
Who will be able to know what the words of love
written on your petals are?
