胡笳十八拍 Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute (Qwen3-Max)

《胡笳十八拍》
蔡琰（蔡文姬） · Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute

中英對照 · Full Bilingual Text (by Qwen3-Max)

第一拍

我生之初尚無為，我生之後漢祚衰。 天不仁兮降亂離，地不仁兮使我逢此時。 干戈日尋兮道路危，民卒流亡兮共哀悲。 煙塵蔽野兮胡虜盛，志節喪盡兮人誰知？

When first I came into this world, all was peace, But soon the Han dynasty began to cease. Heaven showed no mercy—sent war and strife; Earth showed no kindness—gave me this life. Daily the clash of arms made roads unsafe; The people fled in sorrow, hearts near break. Smoke and dust choked the land—the foe grew bold; My virtue fades—whose eyes my pain behold?

第二拍

戎羯逼我兮為室家，將我行兮向天涯。 雲山萬重兮歸路遐，胡風浩浩兮暗長沙。 人既不我知兮謂我何求？ 本來胡地兮吾寧久留？

The northern tribes forced me to wed their kin, And dragged me far—where earth and sky grow thin. Ten thousand clouds and peaks block home’s long way; The desert wind howls bleak, obscuring day. Since none can know my heart, why ask my plea? Was I born for this land? Can I long stay here?

第三拍

身執略兮入胡域，心懷思兮不可抑。 胡笳本自出胡中，緣琴翻出音聲同。 十八拍兮曲雖終，響有餘兮思無窮。 是知絲竹兮皆可寫，哀怨何限兮誰與說？

Seized and taken deep into barbarian land, My longing for home I cannot withstand. The hu-jia flute was born in northern skies, Yet when played on zither, its sorrow cries the same. Though the Eighteen Beats end, the tune may cease, Its echo lingers—grief knows no release. Thus strings and pipes can voice what hearts endure— But who will hear my endless sorrow’s cure?

第四拍

無日無夜兮不思我鄉土， 稟氣合生兮莫過我最苦。 天災國亂兮人無主， 唯我薄命兮沒胡虜。 殊俗心異兮身難處， 嗜慾不同兮誰與語？

No day, no night—my homeland I forget never; Of all who breathe, none suffers pain like ever. Heaven sends disaster, the state collapses fast— No ruler left; my fate was fixed, outcast. Seized by the foe, I dwell in foreign land, Where hearts and ways are strange, and none understand. Our tastes, our longings—utterly apart; Whose ear can hear the sorrow of my heart?

第五拍

戎羯所處兮非我鄉， 骨肉離散兮天一方。 胡地風霜兮塞草衰， 淚盡兮魂將離。 夜聞漢家兮子悲啼， 夢不見兮長太息。

This northern realm is not my native soil— My kin are scattered, parted by fate’s toil. The steppe wind bites, frost bites the withered grass; My tears run dry—my soul begins to pass. At night I hear my Han-born children weep; In dreams I seek them—wake with sighs so deep.

第六拍

胡塵蔽日兮道路迷， 羌胡雜處兮心悲悽。 對萱草兮憂不忘， 彈鳴琴兮淚雙垂。 願得黃鵠兮歸故鄉， 嗟我漂泊兮何時已？

Dust of the north blots out the sun’s clear light; Paths twist in chaos—lost in endless night. Among the Qiang and Hu, my heart grows cold; Grief wells within, unspoken, uncontrolled. Before the daylilies—symbols of a mother’s care— I strum my zither, tears fall without spare. Oh, for a yellow crane to bear me home once more! When will this wandering end? I cannot bear it long.

第七拍

日東月西兮徒相望， 不得相隨兮空斷腸。 對萱草兮增慨慷， 彈鳴琴兮情難量。 願化黃鵠兮歸故鄉， 嗟我飄零兮誰見傷？

The sun rises east, the moon sets west— We gaze in vain, denied love’s behest. My heart breaks; no reunion in sight, Only endless sorrow through day and night. Before the daylilies, my grief swells high; My zither weeps—words cannot tell why. Oh, to transform into a yellow crane and fly! But who sees my drifting soul—and sighs?

第八拍

雁南飛兮不我顧， 水北流兮無復路。 人多暴猛兮如蟲豸， 志不獲伸兮空自苦。 風蕭蕭兮塞外寒， 思漢地兮淚如雨。

Wild geese fly south—they heed not my cry; The river flows north—no path leads me by. These people fierce as vermin, cruel and crude; My will is crushed, in silent grief I brood. The wind moans bleak through northern passes wide; I long for Han’s soil—tears fall like tide.

第九拍

身歸胡地兮心漢土， 肝腸日斷兮誰與吐？ 胡笳本自胡中出， 緣琴翻出十八拍。 哀響纏綿兮徹心髓， 安得黃鵠兮送我歸？

My body dwells in barbarian land, But my heart stays in Han’s beloved strand. Each day my liver and gut with grief are torn— Whose ear will hear the sorrow I have borne? Though the hu-jia was born among the foe, Set to the zither, eighteen beats now flow. Its mournful notes pierce bone and spirit through— Oh, grant me wings! When shall I homeward go?

第十拍

我非草木兮人有情， 胡地何堪兮獨伶俜。 對鏡不見兮舊時容， 愁思鬱結兮誰與同？ 日居月諸兮塵滿面， 歲月逝兮如流水。

I am no grass nor tree—I feel, I grieve; How can this northern land my soul relieve? Alone, abandoned, in this barren plain, No kin, no friend to share my endless pain. Before the mirror—where is my former face? Worry and sorrow none can e’er replace. Sun rises, moon wanes—dust stains my cheek; Time flows like river—swift, and never meek.

第十一拍

雁飛高兮邈難尋， 羌胡雜處兮塵滿襟。 志摧心折兮自悲吟， 淚流滿面兮誰知音？ 人生幾何兮如朝露， 憂來思君兮夢不覩。

The wild geese soar—too high to trace their flight; Among the Qiang and Hu, my robe is white with dust. My will is crushed, my heart near breaking strain; I chant my grief—tears flood, yet none sustain. Life flickers brief as morning dew on grass; In sorrow I think of you—dreams slip, won’t last.

第十二拍

胡塵蔽野兮賊氣盛， 干戈相尋兮民靡寧。 念我故鄉兮行路難， 側身西望兮涕汍瀾。 天無涯兮地無邊， 嗟我懷人兮心不閑。

Dust of war veils the fields—the foe grows strong; Clash of arms brings no peace to the throng. I long for home, yet the road is barred and steep; I turn westward—my tears fall deep, deep, deep. Heaven has no edge, earth no bound in sight; But my heart aches for you—no peace, no night.

第十三拍

身在胡兮心在漢， 夢魂飛去兮故鄉畔。 覺來不見兮增悲嘆， 胡笳一曲兮淚如霰。 夜深人靜兮風颯颯， 思君不見兮腸欲斷。

My body’s in the north, my heart in Han; At night my soul flies home—my native land. Awake, you’re gone—my grief swells yet again; One strain of hu-jia—tears fall like sleet in rain. Deep night, still wind whispers through the trees; I long for you, but see you not—my heart near seizes.

第十四拍

胡風浩浩兮吹我裳， 寒氣凜凜兮透我裳。 心惙惙兮若無所依， 淚交流兮沾我衣。 日月無光兮塵蔽天， 道路險巇兮誰與憐？

The northern gale whips hard against my gown; Biting cold pierces through—no warmth is found. My spirit trembles, lost without a shore; Tears stream together, soak the robe I wore. Sun and moon dim—dust chokes the sky above; The path is steep and cruel—whose heart will move?

第十五拍

生仍冀得兮歸故土， 死當埋骨兮思漢宇。 不謂殘生兮今再覩， 仰天呼號兮淚如雨。 風瑟瑟兮木蕭蕭， 魂欲歸兮路迢迢。

In life I still hoped to return home once more; In death, let my bones lie on Han’s firm shore. Who knew this broken life might yet see grace— I raise my voice to heaven, tears flood my face. Winds sigh, trees shiver in the autumn’s chill; My soul longs home—but the road climbs still.

第十六拍

天無涯兮地無邊， 我心愁兮亦如然。 人生倏忽兮如朝露， 今雖得歸兮何足言？ 子母分離兮意摧殘， 歸來何日兮見故園？

Heaven has no shore, earth no end in sight; So too my sorrow stretches—day and night. Life flashes brief as dew at morning’s break; Though now I’m freed, what joy can this heart take? Torn from my children—my soul is torn apart; When shall I see my homeland’s gentle heart?

第十七拍

十六拍兮思茫茫， 我與兒兮各一方。 日東月西兮徒相望， 不得相從兮空斷腸。 忘我故土兮居他鄉， 對萱草兮增悲傷。

The sixteenth beat—my thoughts drift, lost, unbound; My children and I are parted, far from sound. Sun rises east, moon sets in western skies— We gaze in vain; my heart in silence dies. Forced to forget my home, to dwell afar, Before the daylilies—grief is all I are.

第十八拍（終章）

胡笳本自出胡中， 緣琴翻出十八拍。 哀響纏綿兮徹心髓， 安得黃鵠兮送我歸？ 淚痕滿面兮心欲碎， 魂飛魄散兮誰能追？ 身雖歸兮心未安， 子母分離兮長歎息！

The hu-jia flute was born in northern land, Yet set to zither, eighteen beats I planned. Its mournful strains pierce deep through bone and soul; Oh, grant me wings—let a yellow crane make me whole! My face is streaked with tears, my heart near broke; My spirit flies—no one can chase or invoke. Though my body returns, my peace is gone; Torn from my children—endless sighs move on.

Translated and formatted for clarity and poetic resonance. Inspired by the legendary lament of Cai Yan (Cai Wenji), Eastern Han dynasty.