先秦 Pre-Qin · 诗 Poem
九章·哀郢
Nine Pieces: Lament for Ying
皇天之不纯命兮,何百姓之震愆。
民离散而相失兮,方仲春而东迁。
去故乡而就远兮,遵江夏以流亡。
出国门而轸怀兮,甲之鼂吾以行。
发郢都而去闾兮,怊荒忽其焉极。
楫齐扬以容与兮,哀见君而不再得。
望长楸而太息兮,涕淫淫其若霰。
过夏首而西浮兮,顾龙门而不见。
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皇天之不纯命兮,何百姓之震愆。
民离散而相失兮,方仲春而东迁。
去故乡而就远兮,遵江夏以流亡。
出国门而轸怀兮,甲之鼂吾以行。
发郢都而去闾兮,怊荒忽其焉极。
楫齐扬以容与兮,哀见君而不再得。
望长楸而太息兮,涕淫淫其若霰。
过夏首而西浮兮,顾龙门而不见。
心婵媛而伤怀兮,眇不知其所蹠。
顺风波以从流兮,焉洋洋而为客。
凌阳侯之泛滥兮,忽翱翔之焉薄。
心絓结而不解兮,思蹇产而不释。
将运舟而下浮兮,上洞庭而下江。
去终古之所居兮,今逍遥而来东。
羌灵魂之欲归兮,何须臾而忘反。
背夏浦而西思兮,哀故都之日远。
登大坟而远望兮,聊以舒吾忧心。
哀州土之平乐兮,悲江介之遗风。
当陵阳之焉至兮,淼南渡之焉如。
曾不知夏之为丘兮,孰两东门之可芜。
心不怡之长久兮,忧与愁其相接。
惟郢路之辽远兮,江与夏之不可涉。
忽若去不信兮,至今九年而不复。
惨郁郁而不通兮,蹇侘傺而含慼。
外承欢之汋约兮,谌荏弱而难持。
忠湛湛而愿进兮,妒被离而鄣之。
尧舜之抗行兮,瞭杳杳而薄天。
众谗人之嫉妒兮,被以不慈之伪名。
憎愠惀之修美兮,好夫人之忼慨。
众踥蹀而日进兮,美超远而逾迈。
乱曰:曼余目以流观兮,冀一反之何时。
鸟飞反故乡兮,狐死必首丘。
信非吾罪而弃逐兮,何日夜而忘之。
Why do the people suffer shock and guilt?
The people are scattered, lost to one another,
In mid-spring they move eastward.
Leaving home and kindred, going far away,
Along the Jiang and Xia I drift in exile.
Passing the capital gate, my heart is wounded—
On the day of Jia, at dawn, I set forth.
Setting out from Ying, leaving my lane,
I am dazed and lost—where is the end?
Oars rise together, yet the boat lingers—
I grieve that I shall see my lord no more.
Gazing at the tall catalpa, I sigh deeply,
Tears fall thick as sleet.
Passing Xiashou, I drift westward,
Looking back, the Dragon Gate is nowhere seen.
My heart is entangled, wounded and grieving,
Vague and dim, I know not where to step.
Following wind and waves, drifting with the current,
I become a wanderer on the vast water.
Riding the flood of Yang Hou's billows,
Suddenly I soar—where can I settle?
My heart is knotted and cannot be untied,
My thoughts are twisted and will not release.
I turn the boat to float downstream,
Above is Lake Dongting; below, the great river.
Leaving the place of ancient generations,
Now I drift far to the east.
Ah, my soul longs to return—
How can it forget, even for a moment, to go back?
With Xiabu behind, I think westward—
I grieve that the old capital grows daily farther.
Climbing the great mound, I gaze far away,
To soothe, for a while, my anxious heart.
I mourn the peace and joy of this land,
I grieve for the ancient customs by the river's edge.
When I reach Lingyang, where shall I go?
Over the vast southern crossing, whither do I flee?
Could I not know that the palace would become ruins?
Who would let the eastern gates fall to weeds?
My heart is joyless for so long,
Sorrow and grief follow one another.
Alas, the road to Ying is long and far—
The Jiang and Xia cannot be crossed.
Suddenly, as if I were not believed,
Nine years have passed, and still I have not returned.
Gloomy and pent-up, my spirit cannot flow,
Forlorn and stranded, I hold my grief.
Outwardly they please with soft charm,
But truly they are weak and cannot endure.
Loyal and profound, I wish to advance,
But envy spreads thickly and blocks the way.
The exalted deeds of Yao and Shun—
Radiant, far-reaching, brushing the sky—
The jealous slanderers, full of envy,
Pinned on them the false name of being unkind.
They hate the honest and cultivated,
They love the loud and boastful.
The crowd shuffles forward day by day,
While the beautiful are cast far away, ever more distant.
Envoi: I let my eyes wander widely—
When shall I once return?
Birds fly back to their old nests;
A fox when dying turns its head to its home mound.
Truly it is not my fault that I am cast out—
How, in any night or day, could I forget it?
Meaning
Qu Yuan laments the fall of his beloved capital, Ying, and his own exile. He describes his sorrowful departure, his long journey along the rivers, his longing for the vanished court, and his grief at being wrongfully banished while evil ministers hold power. The poem ends with the famous image of a fox dying with its head toward its homeland, expressing his unshakable love for Chu.
上天之命不专一,为何百姓遭祸殃。 人民离散相失散,正当仲春向东迁。 离开故乡去远方,沿着江夏而流亡。 走出国门心伤痛,甲日清晨我启程。 从郢都离开里闾,怅惘迷茫何处极。 并举船桨缓行去,哀伤再见君无期。 望见长楸长叹息,泪水涟涟如雪珠。 过夏首向西漂流,回望龙门已不见。 心绪缠绵怀忧伤,渺茫不知落脚处。 顺着风波随水流,漂泊无依作客旅。 乘着阳侯之巨浪,忽然高飞向何方。 心中郁结难解开,思虑纠缠放不下。 将转船向下漂流,上入洞庭下大江。 离开世代所居地,如今漂泊来向东。 魂魄想要归故土,何曾片刻忘回返。 背夏浦而向西念,哀故都日渐遥远。 登大堤而望远方,暂且舒展我忧心。 哀州土之平安乐,悲江畔之旧风俗。 面对陵阳去何处,渺渺南渡向哪边。 竟不知郢都成丘墟,谁使两东门荒芜。 心中不乐久长时,忧与愁接连而来。 想那郢路多遥远,长江夏水不可涉。 恍如被弃不信我,至今九年未回还。 愁惨郁郁不畅达,失意困顿含悲戚。 外显承欢那柔媚,其实软弱难自持。 忠心深厚愿进献,嫉妒离散却阻障。 尧舜德行高耸立,目光高远迫近天。 众谗人怀嫉妒心,强加不慈之伪名。 憎恶诚朴之美德,偏爱那虚浮慷慨。 群小趋附日进升,贤者远离更疏迈。 乱辞:纵目四望流观,盼回一次在何时。 鸟飞终归返故乡,狐死头必向山丘。 确实非我罪被放逐,何曾日夜能忘怀。
Appreciation
This is one of Qu Yuan's most powerful and personal works. The poem weaves a geographic journey with an emotional spiral: from the sorrow of leaving the capital, to the painful backward glances, to the despair of prolonged exile. The use of real place names makes the grief concrete, while the refrain-like phrasing and the final analogy of the fox turning toward its home mound elevate personal sorrow into a universal cry for home and loyalty. It is a masterpiece of lyric and political expression, blending the fate of the individual with the fate of the state.
【白话串讲】 “皇天之不纯命兮,何百姓之震愆”——屈原写《哀郢》:上天不公,百姓遭难。“民离散而相失兮,方仲春而东迁”——百姓离散,向东迁徙。“去故乡而就远兮,遵江夏以流亡”——他离开故乡流亡。楚国将亡,他哀痛。 【意象与手法】 以流亡历程为线索,从“出国门而轸怀”的启程之悲到“登大坟而远望”的故都之思,由近及远、由景及情层层递进;“鸟飞反故乡兮,狐死必首丘”以禽兽尚知恋旧反衬有国难归的悲愤;以纪实性的行程为经、跳跃跌宕的情感为纬,尤善用兮字长叹与顶真式章法推进悲情。 【情感与主旨】 约作于郢都被秦将白起攻破之后,“哀郢”即哀悼郢都沦亡。直斥“众谗人之嫉妒”,抒发忠而被谤的郁愤,“信非吾罪而弃逐兮,何日夜而忘之”爱国深情与政治忧思交织,是屈原辞赋中抒情性与现实性高度统一的杰作。 【名句点睛】 常考“鸟飞反故乡兮,狐死必首丘”以禽兽恋旧反衬有国难归;“民离散而相失兮,方仲春而东迁”以百姓离散写国破之痛。
Background
Qu Yuan (c. 340–278 BCE) served the state of Chu during the Warring States period. He was a loyal minister but was slandered and banished by the court. The poem “Lament for Ying” is traditionally linked to the fall of Ying, the Chu capital, either when it was sacked by Qin forces in 278 BCE or when Qu Yuan was first exiled. In either reading, the poem captures the grief of a man who loves his country more than his own life, and who watches helplessly as that country sinks into ruin. His devotion and anguish have made him the archetypal loyal minister in Chinese culture.
《哀郢》是屈原《九章》中的一篇,也是九章里最具纪实色彩、情感最沉痛的杰作之一。郢是楚国都城(今湖北荆州纪南城),哀郢即哀悼郢都。关于写作时世,主要有两说:一是楚顷襄王二十一年(公元前二七八年)秦将白起攻破郢都、楚东迁陈城之后,屈原悲故都沦亡而作;一是屈原初被放逐、离开郢都时所作,哀的是自己将被弃逐、不得不别故都。两说皆可通,而无论取哪一说,诗的核心都是去国怀乡之恸与忠而被谤之愤的交织。理解哀郢,先要明白屈原的处境:他一生的悲剧,在于太爱楚国、太信楚王,却偏偏生于谗人当道、君臣乖离的衰世。他不是普通的逐臣,而是把个人性命与宗国存亡完全绑在一起的人,所以他的离开不是仕途失意,而是精神家园的崩塌。诗中以流亡的行程为线索,从出国门而轸怀写起,过夏首、望长楸、登大坟,一路向东,地理的位移正是心理的坠落。更沉痛的是结尾——九年不复、狐死首丘,他把对故都的眷恋写得比死还坚决。读懂哀郢,要先把屈原放回那个秦兵压境、国步将移的黄昏,才能体会他每一步回望里,装的不是个人委屈,而是一个正在沉没的楚国。 屈原之哀,哀在身与国同坠。当郢都成为远方,他的世界便只剩下回望这一个动作;而回望越是深情,坠落便越是惊心。这正是哀郢区别于一般离愁的根本——它不是个人的失意,而是一个文明子民对故国将亡的预感与悲鸣。
Art
The poem is structured as an exile diary. Each stanza advances geographically—from the city gate, along the rivers, to the great mound—while the emotion deepens. Qu Yuan uses a chain of longing and looking back, with recurring words like “return” and “gaze,” to create a tidal rhythm of grief. The long sighs marked by the particle xi give the verse a sobbing cadence. He contrasts the present misery with imagined past joy and uses the final animal metaphors to drive home the pain of exile. The poem moves from realistic description to symbolic tragedy, fusing narrative and lyric seamlessly.
《哀郢》的艺术,首要在一个纪实与抒情交织的行程结构。全诗几乎是一篇流亡日记:从国门轸怀的启程,到夏首西浮的回望,到长楸太息的临别,到龙门不见的绝望,再到大坟远望的故都之思,最后以狐死首丘的誓言收束。地理线索清晰可辨,情感却如江夏之水层层叠加,景愈远而情愈深。其次是顶真与呼应造成的回环悲势。诗中羌灵魂之欲归兮、背夏浦而西思兮、登大坟而远望兮,思、望、归等字眼反复出现,像潮水一次次打回岸边,把乡愁推成滔天之势。第三是用兮字长叹贯穿始终,每一句都是一声哽咽,二十余声叹息连成一气,形成楚辞特有的顿挫节奏。第四是强烈的今昔对照与虚实相生:实写流亡之苦,虚写故都之乐;实写九年不复,虚写鸟兽知归。尤其曾不知夏之为丘兮,孰两东门之可芜一句,由眼前流亡推想故都终成废墟,把个人悲剧扩成家国悲剧。最后是结尾的譬喻:鸟飞反故乡、狐死必首丘,以禽兽之知礼反衬人之有国难归,举重若轻,却字字见血。 全诗没有一处闲笔,地理每推一步,情感便沉一分;而所有铺叙,最终都收束在乱辞那一声至死不休的呐喊里,结构之密、情感之厚,足为楚辞抒情范式的高标。
Allusions
The most famous allusion is “If a fox dies, it turns its head toward its home mound” (hu si shou qiu), a saying that means even animals remember their birthplace. Qu Yuan uses it to contrast his own condition: he is forced to leave his homeland, though even beasts long to return. This image became a central metaphor for homesickness in Chinese literature, echoed in later works like Du Fu's poetry and Yu Xin's “Lament for the South.” The poem also refers to legendary sage-kings Yao and Shun, who were slandered by villains, drawing a parallel to Qu Yuan's own unjust treatment.
《哀郢》的用典与意象,深植于楚辞传统与中国迁谪文学的基因里。诗中鸟飞反故乡兮,狐死必首丘,是全诗最亮的典故:狐死首丘出自战国俗语,言狐将死,必正首向其所居之山丘,比喻人死不忘本、不忘故土;屈原借以自明,纵被弃逐,魂魄亦日夜思归。这一意象此后成为中国文化里故土之思的原型,从汉乐府《悲歌》欲归家无人,欲渡河无船,到北朝庾信《哀江南赋》日暮途远,人间何世;将军一去,大树飘零,无不是哀郢血脉的延续。又如长楸、夏首、龙门、江夏,皆为楚地真实地名,屈原以实地名写实景,使流亡有了可考的地理坐标,开了后世羁旅行役诗借地名寄慨的先河。至于乱辞体例,本自乐歌结尾的总结性歌唱,屈原用以把前文铺叙的悲情收束为一声总呐喊。哀郢所立,既是楚辞抒情范式的高标,也是中国贬谪文学、怀乡文学不竭的泉源。 狐死首丘一语,自此成为华夏故土之思的最高隐喻,其能量贯穿千年,至今仍在中国人的乡愁里回响。
Commentary
Throughout the centuries, critics have admired this poem for its profound sincerity and structural mastery. Wang Yi placed it in the Nine Sections and noted Qu Yuan's undying loyalty. Zhu Xi highlighted the intensity of his longing for the ruler and state. Qing scholars traced the geographical references, confirming the reality of the journey. Modern scholars often link it to the fall of Ying, seeing it as a final, heart-wrenching testament. Above all, the poem is praised for merging one man's suffering with the fate of a civilization, making it a cornerstone of the loyal-exile tradition in Chinese poetry.
《哀郢》在历代楚辞学中的地位,可用沉痛激楚四字概括。王逸《楚辞章句》列本篇于九章,谓屈原放逐江南之野,思君念国,随事感触辄形于声,哀郢正可作其注脚。朱熹《楚辞集注》更明确指出,此篇言己虽被放,而眷眷不忘君国之心,至死而不忘,于狐死首丘一语体会最深。清代蒋骥《山带阁注楚辞》则考订地理,以江夏、夏首、龙门、大坟诸地一一比附,使后人得以按图索骥,想见屈原当日舟行回望之迹。近世学者如郭沫若、游国恩等,多据白起拔郢之事系此篇于顷襄王二十一年之后,视其为屈原晚年绝笔前的血泪之作。无论系年如何,论者无不重其把个人命运与宗国兴亡熔于一炉的写法——它既不是单纯的怨君,也不是空洞的爱国口号,而是一个具体的、被伤害的灵魂,在故都沦陷(或自身沦落)的关口,把心掏出来给楚国看。这种沉郁顿挫、真情喷薄的气格,直接下启后世羁旅怀乡、伤时念乱之作,杜甫《秋兴》《哀江头》之沉痛,未尝不有哀郢的影子。读懂哀郢,便读懂了屈原,也读懂了中国文人忠爱缠绵、九死不悔的精神原型。 哀郢之重,不在辞之丽,而在情之真——一个被抛弃的人,仍要把心朝向故国,这种执拗,正是中国文人精神最硬的骨头。
Prosody
Line by line
皇天之不纯命兮,何百姓之震愆。
August Heaven's decree is not constant—why do the people suffer shock and guilt? This opening question blames fate itself for the nation's calamity, expressing a deeper despair than blaming any person.
上天之命不专一,为何百姓遭祸殃。
High Heaven's decree is not constant, oh; why are the people thrown, oh, into terror and fault?
这是全诗的开篇,也是一声直指上天的诘问。皇天之不纯命兮,说上天之命不专一、不正常;何百姓之震愆,问为何百姓要遭此震荡祸殃。请注意屈原的起笔不是怨君,而是怨天——他把郢都之难、百姓流离首先归咎于天道无常,这是一种比怨人更深的绝望,因为天不可问、不可争。震愆是震动、罪咎,写百姓在乱离中失所颠沛。这一问奠定了全诗的悲剧基调:不是某一个人倒霉,而是举国都在承受上天的罚。同时它也暗含对当政者失德的指责——天之不纯,实因人之不臧。开篇一句,把个人流亡放进天下大乱的背景里,格局顿开。
This is the opening of the poem and a direct questioning of heaven. 'High Heaven's decree is not constant' says the will of heaven is not steady, not right. 'Why are the people thrown, oh, into terror and fault?' asks why the people must suffer this upheaval and calamity. Note Qu Yuan's opening is not resentment of the ruler but resentment of heaven—he lays the disaster of Ying and the exile of the people first to the fickleness of heaven, a despair deeper than blaming men, because heaven cannot be questioned or fought. 'Terror and fault' writes the people displaced and ruined in the chaos. The question fixes the tragic keynote: not one man's bad luck but a whole people bearing heaven's punishment. At the same time it secretly blames the rulers' lost virtue—the impurity of heaven's will is in fact the fault of men. The opening line places the personal exile within the backdrop of a disordered world, the scope suddenly wide.
去故乡而就远兮,遵江夏以流亡。
Leaving home for distant lands, I drift in exile along the Jiang and Xia rivers. This gives the physical start of the journey, making the exile concrete and geographical.
离开故乡去远方,沿着江夏而流亡。
Leaving the homeland, oh, I go far; following the Yangtze and Xia, oh, a fugitive in exile.
这一句由天及人,落到诗人自身的流亡实况,是整首哀歌的地理起点。去故乡而就远,是主动的离开与被动的遥远叠加,故乡在身后,远方在脚下,一步跨出便是永诀的预感。遵江夏以流亡,写沿着长江、夏水一路漂泊——江夏是楚地真实的江河,屈原把它写进诗里,使流亡有了可考的水路。流亡二字沉痛:不是漫游,不是宦游,是失去家国、无地容身的逃亡。这一句看似平实的行程交代,却藏着全诗最硬的骨头:他走的每一步,都是离开楚国心脏的方向。后世羁旅行役诗借水路寄慨的传统,正始于这样的句子。
This line moves from heaven to man, landing on the poet's own exile, the geographic starting point of the whole lament. 'Leaving the homeland, oh, I go far' stacks a voluntary leaving with a passive distance—the homeland behind, the far ahead, one step out and the premonition of eternal parting. 'Following the Yangtze and Xia, oh, a fugitive in exile' writes the drift along the Yangtze and the Xia—the rivers are real Chu watercourses, Qu Yuan writing them into the poem, giving the exile a traceable water route. The word 'fugitive' is heavy: not roaming, not official travel, but the flight of one who has lost his country and has no place to rest. The line seems a plain account of the journey, yet hides the hardest bone of the poem: every step he takes is in the direction away from the heart of Chu. The later tradition of writing feeling through water routes in travel verse begins in such lines.
鸟飞反故乡兮,狐死必首丘。
Birds fly back to their native groves; a fox when dying turns its head toward its own mound. Even animals long for home—so how much more do I, who cannot return? This is the poem's emotional climax.
鸟飞终归返故乡,狐死头必向山丘。
The bird flies back, oh, to its home; the fox when dying, oh, must face its hill.
这是全诗最亮、也最疼的一笔,出自乱辞。鸟飞反故乡,是常识中禽鸟归巢;狐死必首丘,是古谚言狐将死时头必朝向出生的山丘。屈原并举二者,不是为了讲动物知识,而是用禽兽尚且知归、知本,反衬自己这个有国之人却归不得、回不去。这是全诗最关键的反跌:连鸟兽都做得到的事,忠而被逐的诗人竟做不到,悲愤由此炸开。首丘二字重千钧——死都要朝向故土,何况生?这一譬喻举重若轻,却把前面所有流亡的苦、回望的痛,都收束成一个不可动摇的誓言:我的魂,永远向着郢都。后世无数怀乡文字,都在这八个字里找到了母题。
This is the brightest and most painful stroke of the poem, from the concluding verse. 'The bird flies back, oh, to its home' is the common truth of the bird returning to its nest; 'the fox when dying, oh, must face its hill' is the old saying that the fox at death turns its head toward the hill where it was born. Qu Yuan sets the two side by side, not to teach animal lore but to use the beasts' knowing return and origin as a foil: he, a man with a country, cannot return. This is the poem's key reversal—what even birds and beasts can do, the loyal, driven-out poet cannot, and grief bursts open. The words 'face its hill' weigh a thousand catties: even in death he must face the native soil, how much more in life? The parable, lightly wielded, gathers all the hardship of exile and the pain of looking back into an unshakable vow: my soul forever faces Ying. Countless later writings on homesickness found their theme in these eight characters.
信非吾罪而弃逐兮,何日夜而忘之。
Truly I was not at fault, yet I am cast out. In what day or night could I ever forget? The final claim is absolute: his love for the state is eternal and his innocence non-negotiable.
确实非我罪被放逐,何曾日夜能忘怀。
Truly not my fault, oh, yet cast out; what day, what night, oh, have I forgotten it?
这是全诗的终句,也是一声至死不休的呐喊。信非吾罪而弃逐兮,是斩钉截铁的辩白:确实不是我的罪过,却被放逐。信字用得极硬,不容置疑;弃逐是结果,罪是前提,屈原把前提否了,冤屈便全盘托出。何日夜而忘之,问的是:哪一个日夜,我能把你(故都、故君、故国)忘记?答案是没有一天、没有一夜。这一问不作回答,因为答案在问里——永不。全诗从皇天之不纯命的怨天,走到信非吾罪的自白,再到何日夜而忘之的誓言,情感完成了从外界到内心、从悲愤到忠贞的升华。终句落在一个忘字上,而它说的恰恰是不忘,这种以反问写死誓的笔法,让整首哀郢在读者心里久久不散。
This is the final line of the poem, a cry that will not cease till death. 'Truly not my fault, oh, yet cast out' is a nailed-down defense: truly it is not my crime, yet I am exiled. The word 'truly' is used hard, beyond question; 'cast out' the result, 'crime' the premise—Qu Yuan denies the premise, and the grievance pours out whole. 'What day, what night, oh, have I forgotten it?' asks: on what day, in what night, could I forget you (the old capital, the old lord, the old country)? The answer is never a day, never a night. The question is left unanswered, because the answer is within the question—never. The poem moves from resenting heaven for its inconstancy, to the confession of 'truly not my fault,' to the vow of 'what day, what night have I forgotten,' the emotion completing its ascent from outer to inner, from grief to loyalty. The closing rests on the word 'forget,' yet what it says is precisely not forgetting; this way of writing a death-vow in a rhetorical question makes the whole 'Lament for Ying' linger long in the reader's heart.
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Compare this related work with the poem above through theme, imagery, tone, and emotional movement.
离骚与哀郢同是屈原放逐后的血泪之作,共享忠而被谤、九死不悔的核心情感。离骚以长篇幻游写上下求索、叩阍求女,想象瑰奇,气势磅礴;哀郢则以纪实行程写流亡回望,沉郁顿挫,更近实录。两篇一浪漫一写实,一浩荡一呜咽,却都落到亦余心之所善兮,虽九死其犹未悔与信非吾罪而弃逐兮的同一种执拗。读离骚见屈原的天地胸怀,读哀郢见屈原的儿女情长——同一颗心,两种写法,合起来才是完整的屈原。
秋兴八首 秋兴八首 杜甫 · 同写故国沦陷之思、楚辞启杜甫沉郁 Related readingCompare this related work with the poem above through theme, imagery, tone, and emotional movement.
杜甫秋兴八首咏故国、念长安,丛菊两开他日泪,孤舟一系故园心,其故都之思、漂泊之悲,与哀郢登大坟而远望、哀州土之平乐一脉相承。杜诗沉郁顿挫的风格,正从楚辞哀郢这类作品的悲咽节奏里汲取养分;而杜甫把个人的流离扩成时代的离乱,也可视作哀郢以孤臣之心写宗国兴亡的放大。并读两篇,可见一条从战国楚辞到大唐史诗的沉痛血脉,千年不绝。
九章·涉江 Crossing the River 屈原 · 同出九章、同为流放纪行 Another exile poem by Qu Yuan, also in the Nine Pieces.While Crossing the River depicts solitary wandering in mountain wilderness and personal integrity, Lament for Ying focuses on grief for the lost capital and longing for home. Together they show two sides of exile: proud solitude and aching memory.
涉江与哀郢同列九章,皆屈原流放途中的纪行抒情之作。涉江写南渡溆浦、幽独处乎山中,多写身临深山的孤高与世莫我知的倔强;哀郢写沿江夏东下、回望郢都,多写去国之痛与狐死首丘的眷恋。一写山中之孤,一写水上的悲;一偏重操守的自明,一偏重故土的难舍。两篇合看,正是屈原流放生涯的两个侧面:骨头是涉江的硬,心是哀郢的软。同出九章,同是血泪,却各有其疼法。