本帖最后由 雨荷风 于 2015-10-7 21:25 编辑
秋之時序以農曆七﹑八﹑九月為期。故八月十五日謂之中秋日﹐乃一秋之中也。否則﹐何以命之為中秋。古人曰﹕“月到中秋分外明”。蓋天高氣爽﹐萬里無雲﹐時當月圓﹐清光愈盛。當此之時﹐聚三五知交﹐會於園中﹐以茶代酒﹐以果當饌﹐清談娓娓﹐戲謔暢懷。亦人生之一大樂事耳。及皓月當空﹐齊仰首視之。李白詩云﹕“小時不識月﹐呼作白玉盤。”東坡詩云﹕“暮雲收盡溢清寒﹐銀漢無聲轉玉盤。”此之謂也。然以余觀之﹐圓月泛光﹐非玉可比。以鏡喻之﹐似較貼切。第鏡能鑒人﹐月不能也。故此喻亦似未妥。暫以存疑。
秋之種種﹐非一言能蔽之。想初秋繼夏﹐暑氣未消﹐時有蒸熱﹐故有秋老虎之謂。方此之時﹐雖曰秋至﹐實仍夏焉。欲省冷氣﹐不可得也。及至稍涼﹐以扇代之﹐始適老伴之意。亦窮書生之無可奈何者。
俗謂秋貌多變。時晴時陰者有之﹐時風時雨者有之。至若秋雨綿綿﹐連日不開﹐陰鬱之氣﹐侵人脾胃。天公不作美﹐郊遊之興﹐為之阻抑。故而呼朋招友﹐會於堂室﹐持螯飲酒﹐吟詩作對。至於微雨賞菊﹐別饒情趣。庭階玉砌﹐菊花羅列﹐水珠汗滴﹐嬌姿臨風。其樂如斯﹐不亞登高。余雖不餐秋菊之落英﹐亦插黃花於衣。
及至秋深露冷﹐衣被加厚。花落葉黃﹐隨風起舞。或蟬鳴漸稀﹐悲時令之嬗遞。或蛩聲轉哀﹐知寒冬之將臨。唯吾輩俗士﹐於化土之前﹐亦感時不我待﹐遂強吟悲秋之句曰﹕
一年虛度又臨秋﹐回首人生半是愁。老去何堪功不就﹐無奈日日醉鄉遊。
Essay on Autumn
The period of autumn comprises the seventh, eighth and ninth moons in lunar calendar. So the fifteenth date of the eighth moon is Mid-Autumn Day, the middle of autumn. Or, how can the day be named as Mid-Autumn Day? An ancient poet said, “The moon is specially bright at Mid-Autumn.” Because the sky looks so vast and the air is so cool as there are no clouds for a myriad miles, the moon grows round, and its brightness is to its full. At such a time, gathering of three or five bosom friends, meeting in the garden, drinking tea instead of wine, eating fruits instead of dishes, having a heart-to-heart talk, and joking to the utmost content, all those are great pleasures in life. When the moon rises to the zenith, all present look up at it. Li Bai had lines: “Not knowing the moon when very young, I call it a white jade plate.” Su Shi said, “As dusk clouds cleared, the sky's overflowed with cool light. And noiselessly the Jade-Plate moves in Milky Way.” That’s what they described. But in my opinion, the full moon with bright light should not be compared to jade. It’s more suitable to compare it to the mirror. However, the mirror can reflect images, but the moon can’t. So this comparison is still not appropriate. Let it take the benefit of the doubt for the time being.
All conditions in autumn can’t be covered in a word. Methinks, just at the beginning of autumn succeeding summer, the heat won’t entirely recede, and so sometimes, it can be still hot. It is called Indian summer. At such a time, though it is autumn, yet it is really still summer. If I want to save some expense on air-conditioning, I suffer the failure. As it turns a little cool, I use fans instead, which is just what my wife wishes for saving energy. This is what a poor scholar can do.
They say that aspects of autumn are changeable: sometimes fine, sometimes cloudy, sometimes windy and sometimes rainy. When autumn rains keep in endless fall for days, the coolness in the air will steal into human body. Since Heaven acts nastily, our touring enthusiasm is dampened. Therefore, I have to call my friends to meet me in my house. Then we eat crabs and sip wine while we chant poems and write couplets. And it is particularly interesting to watch chrysanthe-mums in drizzles. The chrysanthemums are arranged on the marble steps of the courtyard, with raindrops like sweat dripping. They stand in the wind, looking so graceful. The enjoyment in this is no less than when we get on hilltops. Although I don’t eat the fallen petals of the chrysanthemums, I stick the yellow flowers on my coat.
When in late autumn, even the dews are cold. I put on more clothes and quilts. The blossoms are falling and the leaves turning yellow, dancing in the wind. The chirping of the cicadas is scarcely heard. They also lament at the change of the seasons. Even cheeping of the crickets sounds sad as if they know there will soon be the advent of the chilly winter. As for those vulgar scholars like me, they also feel that time won’t wait for anyone before their bones turn to dust. I, thereby, compose a poem about grievous autumn:
I’ve spent another year for nothing, and now autumn comes again;
When looking back in my life, half of it consists of sorrow.
How can I bear, as now aging, that I’ve achieved nothing?
So I cannot but give myself up in the drunken land everyday.
|