历史上的今天 ‧ 南宋词人辛弃疾

辛弃疾，原名辛幼安，是中国南宋时期著名的文学家、词人，被后人尊称为“词中之龙”。他出生于1140年，逝世于1207年，是南宋词坛的代表人物之一。

辛弃疾的词作以其豪放、激昂的风格著称，表达了他对国家命运的深切关注和对个人理想的执着追求。他的词风深受苏轼的影响，同时又融入了自己的创新和个性。

辛弃疾的词作内容广泛，既有对国家兴亡的感慨，也有对个人情感的抒发。他的作品在当时并不被主流文学界所接受，但随着时间的推移，他的作品逐渐被世人所认识和赞赏，成为中国文学宝库中的瑰宝。

Xin Qiji, originally named Xin You'an, was a renowned literary figure and poet in the Southern Song Dynasty of China. He is also known as the "Dragon of Ci Poetry." Born in 1140 and passed away in 1207, he was one of the most prominent figures in the Southern Song Ci poetry scene.

Xin Qiji's Ci poems are characterized by their bold and passionate style, reflecting his deep concern for the fate of his country and his persistent pursuit of personal ideals. His works cover a wide range of topics, including reflections on the rise and fall of the nation and expressions of personal emotions.

Influenced by the style of Su Shi, Xin Qiji infused his own innovations and personality into his poetry. Initially, his works were not widely accepted by the mainstream literary circles of his time, but over time, they have been recognized and appreciated by the public, becoming treasures in the Chinese literary heritage.
 

《鹧鸪天·欲上高楼去避愁》这首词抒发了词人壮志难酬的无限愁绪，情真意切，感人肺腑。上片写难以排遣的愁苦。这种愁是由于江山易改、亲朋老去所致，寄托的是作者报国无路、知音难诉的悲愤。下片写自己意欲归耕，努力摆脱这种愁苦而不再想功名之事的愿望。“浮云”二句实为自喻，寄托了词人追求自由的生活理想。

欲上高楼去避愁，
愁还随我上高楼。
经行几处江山改，
多少亲朋尽白头。

归休去，
去归休。
不成人总要封侯。
浮云出处元无定，
得似浮云也自由。

Partridge Sky

To flee from grief I try to mount the tower high,
But I don't know my grief follows me to the height.
Wherever I go, I find the land change far and nigh.
How many of my friends have their hair turned white!

Retire and go;
Go and retire!
Why should a man seek to be lord and go ever higher?
Wherever a cloud emerges, it may float high or low.
If I'm free as cloud, what more should I desire?
 

辛弃疾绝少写自己的爱情经历，偶一为之，便迥异诸家，带着一种击节高歌的悲凉气息。却少有婉转缠绵之意。此词即是其例。据邓广铭《稼轩词编年笺注》，此词可能是淳熙五年（1178）自江西帅召为大理少卿时作。览其词意，当是作者年青时路过池州东流县，结识一位女子，这回经过此地，重访不遇，感发而作此词。

辛弃疾·《念奴娇》

野塘花落，

又匆匆过了清明时节。

铲地东风期限客梦，

一枕云屏寒怯。

曲岸持觞，

垂杨系马，

此地曾经别。

楼空人去，

旧游飞燕能说。

闻道绮陌东头，

行人曾见，

帘底纤纤月。

旧恨春江流不尽，

新恨云山千叠。

料得明朝，

尊前重见，

镜花难折。

也应惊问：

近来多少华发？

Wild pear blossoms start falling again,

so soon, the Qingming festival over.

The cruel eastern wind, for no reason,

Interrupts a traveler’s dream.

I awake, the brocade curtain

Devastatingly cold. Once,

she held the drink to me

on the winding river bank,

and we bade farewell to each other

under a weeping willow tree

with my horse tethered to it.

Now, the pavilion deserted,

there is no trace of her,

only the swallows twittering about bygones.

She’s been seen, people say,

east of the bustling thoroughfare,

behind the curtain, still as graceful

as the new moon. Old regrets

run like the endless spring water.

New griefs pile up

like the clouds over the mountains.

If we were going to meet again,

at a banquet, to tell her all this

would be as impossible

as to pluck the flower from a mirror.

She would say, perhaps,

How white your hair has grown!