The Tale of the Red Cliff (赤壁賦): A Translation from Classical Chinese
Portrait of Su Shi by Zhao Mengfu
Introduction
Su Shi (1037-1101) lived during the Song dynasty (960 –1279) and is viewed as a Renaissance man of sorts, given his interest in literature, politics, painting, pharmacology, and gastronomy. “The Tale of the Red Cliff” was written during his twenty-year-long political exile and it is quite evident how this comes through in the story.
The Tale of the Red Cliff (赤壁賦)
By Su Shi 蘇軾
Translated by Abhishek Bathina 貝亞定
壬戌之秋，七月既望，蘇子與客泛舟遊於赤壁之下。清風徐來，水波不興。舉酒屬客，誦明月之詩，歌窈窕之章。少焉，月出於東山之上，徘徊於斗牛之間。白露橫江，水光接天。縱一葦之所如，凌萬頃之茫然。浩浩乎如馮虛御風，而不知其所止；飄飄乎如遺世獨立,羽化而登仙。
It was fall in the year Renxu (1082), the seventh month, a day after the full moon. I (Mr. Su) and my guests had gone boating to the foot of Red Cliff. A cool breeze gently came upon us but the water did not ripple. I brought out the wine and gathered the guests as we recited poetry about the dazzling moon and sang songs of intelligent and graceful women. Soon rose the moon over East Mountain, hovering between The Dipper and The Bull. White dew over the river, the water shone, joining the sky. We released our reed of a boat to do as it liked as we approached the bewilderment of a vast instant. Boundless, I traveled the void and rode the wind, not knowing where I would stop. Floating, like I have left the world to stand alone. Levitating, I became an Immortal.
於是飲酒樂甚，扣舷而歌之。歌曰：“桂棹兮蘭槳，擊空明兮溯流光。渺渺兮予懷，望美人兮天一方。”客有吹洞簫者，倚歌而和之。其聲嗚嗚然，如怨如慕，如泣如訴；餘音嫋嫋，不絕如縷。舞幽壑之潛蛟，泣孤舟之嫠婦。
The joy of drinking wine came on strong. I kept time against the side of the boat and sang about it.
“Cassia oar ho,
Magnolia rudder.
Strike the empty brilliance ho,
Follow the flowing light to its source.
Blundering and blustering ho,
My heart.
I see a beauty ho,
On this side of the sky”
Among the guests, there was one who played the flute. He leaned into the song and joined in. His voice was a string of wu-wu’s (perhaps you have had the chance before to hear a bamboo flute) as if he was accusing, as if admiring, as if he was sobbing, as if complaining. Delicately the music lingered, uncut like silk threads. The water dragons in the deep and secluded valley danced and a widow in a lonely boat cried.
蘇子愀然，正襟危坐，而問客曰：“何爲其然也？”客曰：“‘月明星稀，烏鵲南飛。’此非曹孟德之詩乎？西望夏口，東望武昌，山川相繆，鬱乎蒼蒼，此非孟德之困於周郎者乎？方其破荊州，下江陵，順流而東也，舳艫千里，旌旗蔽空，釃酒臨江，橫槊賦詩，固一世之雄也，而今安在哉？況吾與子漁樵於江渚之上，侶魚蝦而友麋鹿，駕一葉之扁舟，舉匏樽以相屬。寄蜉蝣於天地，渺滄海之一粟。哀吾生之須臾，羨長 江之無窮。挾飛仙以遨遊，抱明月而長終。知不可乎驟得，託遺響於悲風。”
I (Mr. Su) became sad all of a sudden. I sat up right and proper and asked him, “Why is it that you play this way?” The guest said,
“The moon is bright and the stars few.
The crows and magpies fly south”
“Is that not a poem by Cao Cao?”
In the west I saw Summerton and in the east I saw Portchester. The mountains and the river intertwined, the woods dense and deep. Is this where Cao was besieged by Zhou Lang? Having captured Chaste Tree, he descended upon River Hill. Following the flow of the river, he went east, his fleet extending for a thousand miles, their flags concealing the sky. Cao himself poured wine out, looked upon the river and composed poems as his lance lay horizontal. Undoubtedly he was the hero of a generation, but where is he now? Much less, me and you, fishing and collecting firewood on the river’s isles, companioned by prawn and fish and befriended by elk. We ride a small boat, like a leaf. We raise our gourd goblets and toast each other. Like mayflies we live in the world, a grain in the vast cold ocean. I pity the transience of my life. I envy the inexhaustibility of the long river. I wish to cling to an Immortal to roam, to catch the brilliant moon and live forever. I know this cannot be and so I entrust this fading echo to the sorrowful wind.
蘇子曰：“客亦知夫水與月乎？逝者如斯，而未嘗往也；盈虛者如彼，而卒莫消長也。蓋將自其變者而觀之，則天地曾不能以一瞬；自其不變者而觀之，則物與我皆無盡也，而又何羨乎！且夫天地之間，物各有主，苟非吾之所有，雖一毫而莫取。惟江上之清風，與山間之明月，耳得之而爲聲，目遇之而成色，取之無禁，用之不竭。是造物者之無盡藏也，而吾與子之所共適。”
I (Mr. Su) said, “Do you know the water and the moon? It passes like thisss, but never leavesss. It fills like thattt but never Suddenly! shrinks or grows. If one looks to soon change themselves, the earth and the sky will last but an instant. If one looks at the unchanging self, the world and I are forever unfinished. Now how can I be envious? Moreover in between heaven and earth, each and everything has a rightful master. If it is not what is mine, even a hair of it I will not take. The coool river breezzze and the mooon that glows between the mountains, only when you listen to it does it become sound, only when you see it does it take on color. These I take without restraint and use without end. Thisss is the scriptural reservoir of the molder of things and what you and I have in common is in accord with it.”
客喜而笑，洗盞更酌。餚核既盡，杯盤狼籍。相與枕藉乎舟中，不知東方之既白。
The guests were amused and they laughed. We washed our cups and poured more wine. Our viands, upon examination, had been finished and the cups and plates were scattered about. We became each others pillows and mattresses inside the boat, not knowing that in the East it was already light.
…
是歳十月之望，歩自雪堂，將歸于臨皐，二客從予過黄泥之坂。霜露既降,木葉盡脱，人影在地，仰見明月，顧而樂之，行歌相答，已而歎曰: [有客無酒，有酒無肴，月白風淸，如此良夜何?] 客曰: [今者薄暮擧網得魚，巨口細鱗，状如松江之鱸，顧安所得酒乎?]
That same year, on the tenth month, the day of the full moon, I walked from Snow Hall to River Watch. Two guests accompanied me in crossing the slopes of Yellow Marsh. Frost and dew had descended upon us and the tree leaves had finished falling. On the ground fell our shadows and looking up we saw the bright moon. We took it all in for we were very much enjoying ourselves. We carried a tune, one answering the others’ call.
After a while, I stopped and sighed, “We have guests but no wine. If we had wine, we’d have no viands. Yet, the moon is bright and the air is clear. Like this, how can we deem it a worthy night? ” A guest said, “Today at dusk I held up the net and found a fish! It had a huge mouth and delicate scales, shaped like Lull River Perch. Have you considered how we might get some wine?”
歸而謀諸婦, 婦曰：[我有斗酒，藏之久矣，以待子不時之需] 於是攜酒與魚，復遊於赤壁之下。
We returned home and sought my wife and she said, “There is a bottle of wine that I hid away a long time ago precisely to receive you in a time of need.” Then we carried the wine and the fish and roamed again to the foot of Red Cliff.
江流有聲，斷岸千尺，山高月小，水落石出，曾日月之幾何而江山不可復識矣!
The flow of the river had a voice, the river bank not less than a thousand feet high. The mountains were tall and the moon small. The water fell as it spilled out. How many moons and suns has it been and yet I cannot ever know them.
予乃攝衣而上，履巉巖，披蒙茸，踞虎豹，登虬龍，攀棲鶻之危巣，俯馮夷之幽宮，蓋二客之不能從焉
劃然長嘯，草木震動，山鳴谷應，風起水涌，予亦悄然而悲，肅然而恐，凜乎其不可留也。
I then covered myself in skins and climbed. I walked over jagged precipices. I split the covering undergrowth. I sat on tigers and leopards. I rode the Azure Dragon. I climbed a perching falcon’s high nest. I looked down upon the dark palace of Feng Yi, the river god. My two guests however could not follow me there.
I sighed and let out a long howl. The grass and trees began to tremble; The mountains cried and the valleys called; The wind awoke and the water surged; I was silently sorrowful, reverently fearful. I couldn’t keep myself from shivering.
反而登舟,放乎中流,聽其所止而休焉.時夜將半,四顧寂寥,適有孤鶴横江東來,翅如車輪,玄裳縞衣,戛然長鳴,掠予舟而西也。
I turned back around and we rowed the boat to the middle of the river. We allowed it to stop where it would and rested a while there. It was almost midnight. In all four directions it was still and empty. Just then a lone crane came across the river from the east. Its wings were as large as chariot wheels, a deep black skirt, an undyed silk gown. It tapped me as it called loudly, flying past my boat. It flew West.
須臾客去，予亦就睡，夢二道士，羽衣翩躚，過臨皐之下，揖予而言曰：[赤壁之遊樂乎?] 問其姓名,俛而不答。[嗚呼噫嘻，我知之矣！疇昔之夜飛鳴而過我者,非子也邪?] 道士顧笑。
Soon, the guests had gone. I then decided to sleep and when I did I dreamed of two Daoist priests in feathered robes who danced around elegantly. They were passing by River Watch when they bowed to me and said, “Was your outing to Red Cliff enjoyable?” I asked their names. They looked up at me but did not reply. “Ooh aah eeh mhh, I’ve got it! Last night, flying and calling, something passed me. It was you two, was it not?” The Daoists looked back, laughing.
予亦驚悟，開戸視之，不見其處。
And then suddenly I awoke. I opened the door, looking for them. But they were not to be found.