Canonical Classics ← 第二十八回
第二十八回
huāguǒshānqúnyāo
hēisōnglínsānzàngféng

At Flower-Fruit Mountain the Host of Fiends Bands Together in Fellowship · In the Black Pine Forest Tripitaka Falls in with a Demon

塔邊惡境
模式 Mode Read Study
拼音 Pinyin Off
字體 Script
原文 Original text 繁體 Traditional Reader's edition 含詞賦 With rhapsody

塔邊惡境 The Fair-Seeming Cliff

zhǎnglǎoshíhuìdàolekànzhuāikāijìngzhìbiāndànjiànzhǎnglǎoshíhuìdàolekànzhuāikāijìngzhìbiāndànjiàn

shígāowànzhàngshānjiēqīngxiāoshígāowànzhàngshānjiēqīngxiāo
gēnliánhòufēngchātiāngāogēnliánhòufēngchātiāngāo
liǎngbiānshùshùqiānqiánhòuténgchánbǎiliǎngbiānshùshùqiānqiánhòuténgchánbǎi
huāyìngcǎoshāofēngyǒuyǐngshuǐliúyúndòuyuègēnhuāyìngcǎoshāofēngyǒuyǐngshuǐliúyúndòuyuègēn
dǎohéngdānshēnjiànténgjiéguàguāngfēngdǎohéngdānshēnjiànténgjiéguàguāngfēng
shíqiáoxiàliúgǔngǔnqīngquántáizuòshàngzhǎngmíngmíngbáifěnshíqiáoxiàliúgǔngǔnqīngquántáizuòshàngzhǎngmíngmíngbáifěn
yuǎnguānsāndǎotiāntángjìnkànyǒupéngláishèngjìngyuǎnguānsāndǎotiāntángjìnkànyǒupéngláishèngjìng
xiāngsōngzhúràoshānquèyuánhóu穿chuānjùnlǐngxiāngsōngzhúràoshānquèyuánhóu穿chuānjùnlǐng
dòngménwàiyǒuláiwǎngdezǒushòuchénghángshùlínyǒuhuòchūhuòdefēiqínzuòduìdòngménwàiyǒuláiwǎngdezǒushòuchénghángshùlínyǒuhuòchūhuòdefēiqínzuòduì
qīngqīngxiāngcǎoxiùyànyànhuākāiqīngqīngxiāngcǎoxiùyànyànhuākāi
zhèsuǒzàifēnmíngshìèjìngzhǎnglǎohuìzhuàngjiāngláizhèsuǒzàifēnmíngshìèjìngzhǎnglǎohuìzhuàngjiānglái

逐句解 Line by line

zhǎnglǎoshíhuìdàolekànzhuāikāijìngzhìbiāndànjiàn zhǎnglǎoshíhuìdàolekànzhuāikāijìngzhìbiāndànjiàn

Alas! The elder's hour of ill luck had come. Watch him stride out and go straight up to the pagoda. And there he saw:

長老 zhǎng; 那 nà. The narrator's sigh marks the threshold of disaster; the descriptive fu follows.

shígāowànzhàngshānjiēqīngxiāo shígāowànzhàngshānjiēqīngxiāo

The stone cliff rose ten thousand zhàng; the mountain, vast, touched the blue empyrean.

萬丈 rendered as zhàng. The fu opens on false grandeur — a sublimity that masks a demon's den.

gēnliánhòufēngchātiāngāo gēnliánhòufēngchātiāngāo

Its roots joined the thickness of the earth; its peaks pierced the height of heaven.

Root-and-peak antithesis: the cliff spans earth’s depth and heaven’s height.

liǎngbiānshùshùqiānqiánhòuténgchánbǎi liǎngbiānshùshùqiānqiánhòuténgchánbǎi

On either side, some thousands of mingled trees; before and behind, vines twining a hundred li and more.

两邊/前後 spatial parallelism enlarging the scene on every axis.

huāyìngcǎoshāofēngyǒuyǐngshuǐliúyúndòuyuègēn huāyìngcǎoshāofēngyǒuyǐngshuǐliúyúndòuyuègēn

Flowers lit the grass-tips — the wind cast shadows; water ran through cloud-hollows — the moon had no root.

月無根 the reflected moon, rootless on the moving water — an image of beautiful unreality.

dǎohéngdānshēnjiànténgjiéguàguāngfēng dǎohéngdānshēnjiànténgjiéguàguāngfēng

Fallen trees lay athwart the deep ravine; withered vines hung knotted on the bare peak.

倒木 dǎo (“fallen”); 橫擔 dān (“lie athwart / span,” verb) — contrast 百十擔 dàn (load).

shíqiáoxiàliúgǔngǔnqīngquántáizuòshàngzhǎngmíngmíngbáifěn shíqiáoxiàliúgǔngǔnqīngquántáizuòshàngzhǎngmíngmíngbáifěn

Below the stone bridge ran the tumbling clear spring; upon the terrace-seat spread the bright, bright white bloom.

長 zhǎng (“grows,” verb, parallel to 流 “flows”); 明明白粉 the gleaming mineral efflorescence on the stone.

yuǎnguānsāndǎotiāntángjìnkànyǒupéngláishèngjìng yuǎnguānsāndǎotiāntángjìnkànyǒupéngláishèngjìng

Seen from afar, it seemed the paradise of the Three Isles; seen close to, it had the look of Penglai's fairest scene.

似 sì. 三島 / 蓬萊 the isles of the immortals — the fu's crowning deception, holiness counterfeited.

xiāngsōngzhúràoshānquèyuánhóu穿chuānjùnlǐng xiāngsōngzhúràoshānquèyuánhóu穿chuānjùnlǐng

Fragrant pines and purple bamboo ringed the mountain stream; crows and magpies, gibbons and monkeys, threaded the steep ranges.

The fauna-and-flora couplet sustains the paradisal illusion.

dòngménwàiyǒuláiwǎngdezǒushòuchénghángshùlínyǒuhuòchūhuòdefēiqínzuòduì dòngménwàiyǒuláiwǎngdezǒushòuchénghángshùlínyǒuhuòchūhuòdefēiqínzuòduì

Outside the cave-mouth, beasts came and went in rows; within the wood, birds flew out and in by flocks.

走獸成行 háng (“in rows”) — the chapter's first legitimate 行|háng reading. 洞門 — the tell: this “pagoda-temple” has a demon's cave-mouth.

qīngqīngxiāngcǎoxiùyànyànhuākāi qīngqīngxiāngcǎoxiùyànyànhuākāi

Green, green, the fragrant grasses flourished; bright, bright, the wild flowers bloomed.

Reduplicative 青青/艷艷 — the last note of counterfeit springtime before the verdict.

zhèsuǒzàifēnmíngshìèjìngzhǎnglǎohuìzhuàngjiānglái zhèsuǒzàifēnmíngshìèjìngzhǎnglǎohuìzhuàngjiānglái

This place, plain to see, was an evil ground — and the luckless elder came blundering straight in.

分明 fēn; 那長老 nà / zhǎng; 撞將 jiāng. The fu drops its mask in the closing couplet.


總評 Commentary

This landscape-fu is built on a single sustained irony: every line offers a marker of the holy or the sublime — cliffs touching heaven, the paradise of the Three Isles, the fairyland of Penglai, fragrant pines and purple bamboo — and every one of them is false. The narrator has already told us the golden “pagoda” is only sun on gilt, and the fu now elaborates the deception at length, seducing the reader with the same beauty that seduces Tripitaka.

The tell is placed with care: amid the immortals' isles and blooming flowers sits a 洞門, a cave-mouth, with beasts filing in and out — the unmistakable architecture of a demon's den, not a temple. The set-piece thus works on two audiences at once. Tripitaka reads paradise; the reader, trained by a hundred such fu, reads the cave-mouth and the omen-laden “evil ground” of the final couplet.

The closing line collapses the whole edifice with deliberate bathos — after the grandeur of Penglai, the plain verdict “this place, plain to see, was an evil ground,” and the luckless master “blundering straight in.” The fu's beauty is not undone but weaponized: it has done to the reader, briefly, exactly what the demon's illusion does to Tripitaka.