石崖之下聳出洞府 A Cave Rises Beneath the Cliff
他兩個果奔入山中,穿崗越嶺,行夠多時,只見那石崖之下聳出一座洞府。兩人定步觀瞻,果然兇險。但見那:他两个果奔入山中,穿岗越岭,行够多时,只见那石崖之下耸出一座洞府。两人定步观瞻,果然凶险。但见那:
逐句解 Line by line
The two of them plunged into the mountain, crossed hummock and ridge, and after a good long march they saw, beneath a stone cliff, a cave-dwelling rising up.
穿崗越嶺: 崗 is gāng, a low hill, per the ruling of ch. 17; pypinyin defaults to gǎng. 聳出, to thrust up — a cave described as though it were a peak.
The two halted and looked their fill, and truly the place was fearful. Behold:
定步觀瞻, to halt one's step and gaze. The lead-in 但見那: stays with the prose segment.
Piled barriers and pointed peaks; winding ranges and an ancient road.
A second 賦, and shorter and quieter than the first. It opens on two four-graph pairs rather than on the parallel copulas of block 14.
Green pines and emerald bamboo, soft and drooping; willows and dark paulownia, slow and swaying.
依依 and 冉冉: the reduplications here are those of gentle motion, not of noise. The mountain of the earlier rhapsody roared; the mountain outside the demon's door merely sways.
Before the cliff, strange rocks stand two and two; within the wood, hidden birds are paired and paired.
雙雙, 對對 — everything before the cave comes in pairs, which is a fine irony to place at the door of a place where a party of three has just become two.
The ravine's water runs far and dashes on the rock wall; the mountain spring drips fine and floods the sandy dyke.
沖石壁 against 漫沙堤: far and near, violent and gentle, in one couplet.
Wild clouds in flakes; magic herbs thick and green.
Four graphs and four graphs. 瑤草, the jade-herbs of the immortals' garden — the vocabulary of paradise, at a fiend's gate.
Fiend-foxes and cunning hares shuttle to and fro; antlered deer and musk-deer contend together in valor.
攛梭, to dart like a weaver's shuttle; 攛 is cuān, per ch. 17. The verse has moved from paired birds to hares and foxes, and from stillness to contention.
Split cliffs hang aslant with vines ten thousand years old; deep gullies bear, half suspended, cypresses a thousand years old.
萬年籐 and 千歲柏 — the age of the place, stated twice. Compare the thousand-zhàng cliff and ten-thousand-zhàng crag of the first rhapsody.
Towering and lofty, it puts Mount Hua to shame; with falling blossom and crying birds it outdoes Mount Tiantai.
華嶽 is Mount Hua, the Western Marchmount; 天臺 is the Tiantai range, home of the Lotus Sutra school. The rhapsody ends by ranking a demon's doorstep above the two most sacred mountains of its two religions, which is either flattery or blasphemy and is certainly a joke.
Ninety-eight graphs of scenery, and every image of it is doubled. Rocks stand 雙雙, birds sit 對對; pines and bamboo, willow and paulownia, cliff and gully, vine and cypress. The rhapsody is built entirely out of pairs, and it is being looked at by two pilgrims who have just lost the third of their number.
The last couplet is worth pausing over. 奕奕巍巍欺華嶽,落花啼鳥賽天臺 — this place shames Mount Hua and outdoes Tiantai. Those are the holy mountains of Daoism and of the Lotus school respectively, and the rhapsody awards the prize to the front door of a cannibal. The novel does this often, and never with a wink; the beauty of the demon's mountain is not ironic, it is simply true, and the reader is left to make what he can of the fact.