江湖生計 The Angler's and Woodman's Living
漁翁道:「李兄,你山中不如我水上生意快活。有一《西江月》為證:渔翁道:「李兄,你山中不如我水上生意快活。有一《西江月》为证:
樵夫道:「張兄,你水上還不如我山中的生意快活。亦有《西江月》為證:樵夫道:「张兄,你水上还不如我山中的生意快活。亦有《西江月》为证:
逐句解 Line by line
The fisherman said: 'Brother Li, your life in the hills is not so merry as my trade on the water. I have a lyric to the tune Moon over the West River to prove it:'
生意快活 is 'a livelihood carefree and lively'; 《西江月》 (Xījiāngyuè, 'Moon over the West River') is one of the most familiar 詞牌, used repeatedly in the novel. 為 in 為證 is wéi.
Red smartweed in heavy bloom mirrors the moon; yellow reeds toss their leaves in the wind.
紅蓼 is red-flowered smartweed of the water margin, 黃蘆 the withered yellow reeds — a balanced six-and-six opening couplet, as the 西江月 form requires.
The azure sky stretches clear and far, the Chu river lies empty; a single stir sets the whole pool of stars atremble.
楚江 ('the river of Chu') is a poetic name for the great southern waters; 牽攪 is 'to tug and stir,' and 一潭星動 the reflected stars set quivering by the oar. 一 is read yì.
Great fish come into the net in ranks; little mandarin-fish take the hook in clusters.
鱖 (guì) is the mandarin fish; 作隊 ('in files') and 成叢 ('in throngs') make the couplet's parallel exact — big fish to the net, small fish to the hook.
Once got and cooked, the flavor is all the richer; laughing proud on rivers and lakes, I make merry din.
味偏濃 is 'the taste especially strong'; 笑傲江湖 ('to laugh in proud freedom upon the rivers and lakes') is a set phrase for the untrammeled wandering life, and 打鬨 (dǎ hòng) is 'to make a boisterous racket.' The 」 ends the fisherman's lyric.
The woodcutter said: 'Brother Zhang, your trade on the water is still not so merry as mine in the hills. I also have a lyric to Moon over the West River to prove it:'
The matched rejoinder again; 還不如 caps the fisherman's own 不如. 為 in 為證 is wéi.
Withered leaves and dead creepers litter the path; broken tips of aging bamboo fill the hills.
敗葉枯藤 is the fallen debris of the woods, the woodcutter's raw material; 破梢 the broken stalk-ends, 盈山 'fill the mountains.' The couplet answers the fisherman's water-scene with a hill-scene.
Old-man's-beard and dried kudzu tangle and climb every which way; I break them off, bind them with cord, and lash down my load.
女蘿 is the climbing lichen-vine 'old-man's-beard'; 葛 kudzu (乾 read gān, 'dried'). 收繩 is 'to take up the binding-rope,' 殺擔 'to cinch the carrying-load tight.'
Worms have bored the elms and willows hollow; the wind has snapped the crowns of pine and nanmu.
蟲蛀 is 'worm-eaten'; 榆柳 elm and willow, 柟 (= 楠, nán) the nanmu, a prized timber. Dead and broken wood is exactly the woodcutter's harvest.
I gather it, heap it up against the winter cold, and trade it for wine and coin just as I choose.
備冬寒 is 'to lay in a store against the cold'; 從俺 is 'as I please,' 俺 a colloquial northern 'I.' The plain vernacular close matches the fisherman's 打鬨; the 」 ends the lyric.
The fourth exchange sets two lyrics to Moon over the West River, the tune whose strict form — paired six-syllable lines opening each stanza, then seven-syllable lines — the poet keeps throughout. The fisherman paints a luminous night on the water, smartweed and reeds under the moon, nets and hooks full of fish; the woodcutter answers with the litter of the autumn woods, dead vines and broken timber gathered against the winter.
Both lyrics close on a deliberately colloquial note — the fisherman's 笑傲江湖打鬨 and the woodcutter's 換酒換錢從俺, the latter dropping into the plain dialect 俺 for 'I.' The descent from ornate natural imagery to rough vernacular is characteristic of the 詞 as the novel deploys it: a form capable of both the painterly and the earthy, here yoking the two rustics' refinement to their unpretending, workaday freedom.