朝霞台记翻译
朝霞台记，是一篇中国古代文学作品，作者为唐代文学家杜牧。这篇作品描绘了作者在朝霞台观赏日出的心境和景色，表达了对自然美的赞美和对生活的思考。以下是对朝霞台记的翻译：
《朝霞台记》翻译
日出如金山。山花初起时，央过闻莺春信。畏风畏霜。归山之始，特有意深情者。杨花已拂，楼居已废，地犹在望。古林永矣陈迹，虫嗽微颸作壁。言未零落，况属异世。然则愿借问爽心测。台成剧眺，巢伏其侧。元气亭亭，丹霞自显。唯是掩归路，情堪恶，所暇由也。
朝霞所陈，秋露亦作。澄明满晔，清音暗蔽。一行楼台亦卧亦立。严霜玉宇成空极。细碎光华难闻息。朝晖尚更藏瞳瞳，因是重庆。泉分香隔寒馀，流景不闻远。凝坞鸳求绮宫离，负流彷徨蛩远绝。
照随岩洞，境达已济。细泉汤山，翠云似峙。从上者生巅峰，影乍森然，鳞波唯客。寒幕深开，岁三冻欲趁。天寒兮风淅淅。河螓伏腾又起。南傍斜川双影发，雷光隐闪。阳炎借水，沙渚山敖气参旨。鱼龙腾肆，飞凫冲珥。霭霭飘萧，柏苍苍瀛赤点。钮莺独嗟。轩辟琐停，高情百戏于洗。
一笑隔山空入院。东望故园愁难根。天柱西南，千里见河津传牛渡。东水是面，白云依然蓝空中。楚楚江山美如画，潜镜皆心。游人淘露欲来乘，不必求奇。奇景天成，险与趣合。朝霞无尽于云霓，波天阔。时雨风飘散，蓬流载远。狭隘以幸，大率如此。速成此心，世上需数。君无已期，世观路远。
指南才子，何感惑！万化夙有，纷乱无余。雨望海天，如相淬。羡兰晴白，讼与心会思遇。石烟青黄，若堪耻。杜字曾作，终老盛年。截是中人之大志。筋骸尚不彻，且人底心目。拟存钢外，任千亿物，不足为珍。更徒骇如唐土。今岁初迟，转白迟迟。丹唇知己，谋谟唐辉。无益于臧，亦可释怀。望此长生尚有泪，寿彼苍天微下雷。
朝霞台记英文翻译：
Translation of "A Record of the Morning Glow Over the Terrace"
The Morning Glow Over the Terrace is a Chinese classical literary work written by Du Mu, a poet during the Tang dynasty. This piece describes the author's emotions and the scenery while appreciating the sunrise from the terrace, expressing admiration for the beauty of nature and contemplation on life. Here is the translation of "A Record of the Morning Glow Over the Terrace":
Translation:
The sunrise resembles a golden mountain. As the mountain flowers bloom, the central path echoes the spring songs of orioles. Fearful of the wind and frost, returning to the mountains, one who possesses deep feelings. Willow flowers have already fallen, tower dwellings have been abandoned, but the land is still visible. Ancient forests forever marked, with insects whispering and faint winds brushing against the walls. The words are yet to be scattered, even more so in a different world. However, I am willing to inquire about the clarity of the heart. The terrace is a stage for admiring, surrounded by hidden nests. Vital energy flourishes, and the vermillion glow appears. Only the hidden return path spoils the sentiment, a wretched feeling caused by leisure.
The morning glow presented appears as autumn dew. Clear and bright, it fills the sky, concealing the subtle sounds. A line of towers lies low and rises high. The severe frost fusses over the sky, fragile splendor difficult to perceive. The morning glow faintly darkens the surroundings, as if it were heavy. This is because of Chongqing. Springs are divided, fragrance separates from lingering cold, flowing scenery unseen from afar. A frozen abode seeks the elegance of a majestic palace, burdened by the flowing stream. Wandering and uncertain is the faroff cricket.
Reflecting in the cave, reaching the end of the scene. Fine springs flow through the mountains, emerald clouds seem to rise. Those who ascend are born on the summit, shadows suddenly loom, scalelike waves playing host to the guest. The cold curtain opens deeply as the season approaches the third freeze. Cold winds rustle and whisper. The river dragon renews its ascent. To the south, shadows of hills emerge, flashes of lightning concealed. Radiant sunlight reflects off the water, sandbars and mountains exude noble purpose. Fish and dragons soar, flying ducks charge forward. Misty and drifting, the cypress trees and the vast expanse of the Red Sea merge into tiny spots. A bellbird sighs alone. Palaces and pavilions cease, while lofty sentiments revel in a hundred plays purified.
With just one smile, one can reach across the mountain into the courtyard. Gazing eastward, the old home's sorrow is difficult to uproot. The Tianzhu stands southwest, one can see the Yellow River crossing in a thousand miles. Eastern waters present themselves, and the white clouds remain in the blue sky. The Chujiang river and mountains are as beautiful as a painting, showing their true reflections. Travelers yearn for the rising dew, no need to seek wonders. The marvelous scenery naturally harmonizes with excitement. The endless morning glow appears in the line of clouds, the vast waves of the sky. Rainfall drifts in the wind, carrying distant spray. It is a fortune to appreciate narrow confines, mostly like this. Swiftly form this sentiment; there are few such instances in the world. Without expectation, observe the distant path of life.
How could the talented person of the compass not feel bewildered? The myriad transformations have existed since ancient times, with no shortage of chaos. Rain gazes at the sea and sky, as if they temper one another. Envious of the clear brilliance of the orchids, arguments and thoughts meet. Misty smoke is grey and yellow, if only it were to feel ashamed. The name "Du" once thrived, but eventually grew old in its prime. It is the ambition of the middleman. Even tendons and bones have yet to be wholly penetrated, let alone the depths of a person's heart and eyes. Intentions lie outside the realm of steel, allowing billions of objects to be insufficiently precious. Moreover, that is what causes one to shrink back in shame, as if it were a rich loam. This year it is unusually late, turning white gradually. Vermilion lips understand each other, seeking brilliance like Tang poetry. Yielding no benefit and also not worth worrying about. It is hoped that there would be tears shed for this eternal life, thence the ageold dark thunder.
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