西方的鬼节,万盛节,很有点戏剧性。东方的鬼节,七月十五
,又叫盂兰盆节,却已过去。往年万盛节玛雅都写点什么,现
在她休整去了,我来补写几个字。
谈什么呢?谈几首诗,就我所知,中国古代诗中鬼气较重的恐
怕是屈元和李贺。后者称诗鬼,当然是诗阴抑之气。今天天气
好,不然我还真不敢乱谈呢。。。
李贺的诗好,现在读起来格局都不显古。可见其用心非凡,当
然他是最推崇屈元的诗气的(大格局)。诗论不好,抄屈元一
首山鬼。传说此诗作成之后,天地为之震撼。。。
《山 鬼》
若有人兮山之阿, 被薛荔兮带女萝;
既含睇兮又宜笑, 子慕予兮善窈窕;
乘赤豹兮从文貍, 辛夷车兮结桂旗;
被石兰兮带杜衡, 折芬馨兮遗所思。
余处幽篁兮终不见天,路险难兮独后来;
表独立兮山之上, 云容容兮而在下;
杳冥冥兮羌昼晦, 东风飘兮神灵雨;
留灵修兮儋忘归, 岁既晏兮孰华予。
采三秀兮于山间, 石磊磊兮兮葛蔓蔓;
怨公子兮怅忘归, 君思我兮不得闲;
山中人兮芳杜若, 饮石泉兮荫松柏;
君思我兮然疑作。
雷填填兮雨冥冥, 猨啾啾兮狖夜鸣;
风飒飒兮木萧萧, 思公子兮徒离忧。
(这里有极好的网页版:http://chu.jznu.net/chuchi/9.html)
李贺诗中鬼气最重的恐怕是他的苏小小墓,韵新奇,情景惊魂。
《苏小小墓》
幽兰露,如啼眼。
无物结同心,
烟花不堪剪。
草如茵,松如盖。
风为裳,水为珮。
油壁车,夕相待。
冷翠烛,劳光彩。
西陵下,风吹雨。
此篇虽为唐诗,但今天读起来并不显古,一读之下,难以忘怀。
《南山田中行》虽有鬼火,倒是一般乡村田间景色。借李贺之
眼,之笔和韵而出,也还没能营造出多少阴迫之感。现在读起
来,似乎还是在字面之上,也许为七律所限吧!
《南山田中行》
秋野明,秋风白,塘水漻漻虫啧啧。
云根台藓山上石,冷红泣露娇啼色。
荒畦九月稻叉牙,蛰萤低飞陇径斜。
石脉水流泉滴沙,鬼灯如漆点松花。
最后谈谈李贺的金铜仙人辞汉歌,这是很独特的一首意会的歌,
也似乎是夜间刻境,诗中的风和泪有些刻骨之感,“天若有情
天亦老”更是千古名句。
《金铜仙人辞汉歌》 (并序)
魏明帝青龙元年八月,诏宫官牵车西取汉孝武捧露盘仙人,欲
立置前殿。宫官既拆盘,仙人临载乃潸然泪下。唐诸王孙李长
吉遂作金铜仙人辞汉歌。
茂陵刘郎秋风客,夜闻马嘶晓无迹。
画栏桂树悬秋香,三十六宫土花碧。
魏官牵车指千里,东关酸风射眸子。
空将汉月出宫门,忆君清泪如铅水。
衰兰送客咸阳道,天若有情天亦老。
携盘独出月荒凉,渭城已远波声小。
海子在其长诗《但是水,水》有其现代版摹刻,写得也很的韵
味,并附于下:
八月或:金铜仙人辞汉歌
八月是忧患的日子
夜晚如马把我埋没。流水的声音,钟鼓的声音。
又坐在空空的早晨,除了潮湿的苔藓
我一无所有
八月是痛苦的日子
画栏如树把我生长。流水的香气,宫殿的香气。
又坐在空空的早晨,除了八月的土地
我一无所有
陌生的官牵我走向千里之外
函谷吹来的凄风一直射向我青铜仙人的眸子
八月是忧患的日子
汉月与我一道
寂寞地离开古老的地方
一路没有言语
思念旧君的清泪如铅水一样滴落
一路没有言语
咸阳道上为我送行的只有败兰一支。
八月是痛苦的日子
我
金铜仙人
独自携带
自己和乘露盘
在月儿照着的荒凉的野地上行走
渐渐
离渭城远了听到的渭水的波声也就渐渐小了
。。。
诗的功夫到家,都有那么一点神斧鬼工,这“鬼”字用得妙。
万盛节尽谈中国的诗,有点不合情理。去年玛雅鬼节写爱伦坡
,我也一样钟爱。谈到美国的鬼才,非坡莫属,这里引一首他
的“钟”:
The Bells
Hear the sledges with the bells–
Silver bells–
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells,–
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
Hear the mellow wedding-bells,
Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight
From the molten-golden notes!
And all in tune,
What a liquid ditty floats
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats
On the moon!
Oh, from out the sounding cells,
What a gust of euphony voluminously wells!
How it swells!
How it dwells
On the Future!
how it tells
Of rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells–
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells–
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!
Hear the loud alarum bells–
Brazen bells!
What a tale of terror, now, their turbulancy tells!
In the startled ear of night
How they scream out their affright!
Too much horrified to speak,
They can only shriek, shriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire
Leaping higher, higher, higher
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor,
Now–now to sit or never,
By the side of the pale-faced moon.
Oh, the bells, bells, bells!
What a tale their terror tells
Of despair!
How they clang, and clash, and roar!
What a horror they outpour
On the bosom of the palpitating air!
Yet the ear, it fully knows,
By the twanging
And the clanging,
How the danger ebbs and flows;
Yet the ear distinctly tells,
In the jangling
And the wrangling,
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking of the swelling in the anger of the bells–
Of the bells–
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells,–
In the clamor and the clangor of the bells!
Hear the tolling of the bells–
Iron bells!
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
In a silence of the night
How we shiver with affright
At the meloncholy menace of their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats,
Is a groan:
And the people–ah, the people–
They that dwell up in the steeple,
All alone,
And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling
On the human heart a stone–
They are neither man nor woman–
They are neither brute nor human–
They are Ghouls!
And their king it is who tolls;
And he rolls, rolls, rolls, rolls,
A paean from the bells!
And his merry bosom swells
With the paean of the bells!
And he dances and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the paean of the bells–
Of the bells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the throbbing of the bells–
Of the bells, bells, bells,
To the sobbing of the bells;
Keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a happy Runic rhyme,
To the rolling of the bells,–
Of the bells, bells, bells–
To the tolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells,–
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.
这想象和音韵更是继雪莱拜伦以后英文诗中不可多见的。
钟声荡荡,情境翩翩,金铃银铃警铃过后,一下就转到坡最拿
手的铁铃(丧钟),那出神入化之笔,无须多评。
但愿能用此迟交一份万盛节的作业。