原文 Original text
繁體 Traditional
Reader's edition
含詞賦 With rhapsody
敗山頹景
The Ruined Mountain
那行者將身一縱，跳過了東洋大海，早至花果山。按落雲頭，睜睛觀看，那山上花草俱無，煙霞盡絕；峰巖倒塌，林樹焦枯。你道怎麼這等？只因他鬧了天宮，拿上界去，此山被顯聖二郎神率領那梅山七弟兄，放火燒壞了。這大聖倍加悽慘。有一篇敗山頹景的古風為證。古風云：那行者将身一纵，跳过了东洋大海，早至花果山。按落云头，睁睛观看，那山上花草俱无，烟霞尽绝；峰岩倒塌，林树焦枯。你道怎么这等？只因他闹了天宫，拿上界去，此山被显圣二郎神率领那梅山七弟兄，放火烧坏了。这大圣倍加凄惨。有一篇败山颓景的古风为证。古风云：
回顧仙山兩淚垂，對山悽慘更傷悲。回顾仙山两泪垂，对山凄惨更伤悲。
當時只道山無損，今日方知地有虧。当时只道山无损，今日方知地有亏。
可恨二郎將我滅，堪嗔小聖把人欺。可恨二郎将我灭，堪嗔小圣把人欺。
行兇掘你先靈墓，無干破爾祖墳基。行凶掘你先灵墓，无干破尔祖坟基。
滿天霞霧皆消蕩，遍地風雲盡散稀。满天霞雾皆消荡，遍地风云尽散稀。
東嶺不聞斑虎嘯，西山那見白猿啼。东岭不闻斑虎啸，西山那见白猿啼。
北谿狐兔無蹤跡，南谷獐𤜱沒影遺。北谿狐兔无踪迹，南谷獐𤜱没影遗。
青石燒成千塊土，碧砂化作一堆泥。青石烧成千块土，碧砂化作一堆泥。
洞外喬松皆倚倒，崖前翠柏盡稀少。洞外乔松皆倚倒，崖前翠柏尽稀少。
椿杉槐檜栗檀焦，桃杏李梅梨棗了。椿杉槐桧栗檀焦，桃杏李梅梨枣了。
柘絕桑無怎養蠶？柳稀竹少難棲鳥。柘绝桑无怎养蚕？柳稀竹少难栖鸟。
峰頭巧石化為塵，澗底泉乾都是草。峰头巧石化为尘，涧底泉干都是草。
崖前土黑沒芝蘭，路畔泥紅藤薜攀。崖前土黑没芝兰，路畔泥红藤薜攀。
往日飛禽飛那處？當時走獸走何山？往日飞禽飞那处？当时走兽走何山？
豹嫌蟒惡傾頹所，鶴避蛇回敗壞間。豹嫌蟒恶倾颓所，鹤避蛇回败坏间。
想是日前行惡念，致令目下受艱難。想是日前行恶念，致令目下受艰难。
逐句解 Line by line
那行者將身一縱，跳過了東洋大海，早至花果山。按落雲頭，睜睛觀看，那山上花草俱無，煙霞盡絕；峰巖倒塌，林樹焦枯。你道怎麼這等？只因他鬧了天宮，拿上界去，此山被顯聖二郎神率領那梅山七弟兄，放火燒壞了。這大聖倍加悽慘。有一篇敗山頹景的古風為證。古風云：
那行者将身一纵，跳过了东洋大海，早至花果山。按落云头，睁睛观看，那山上花草俱无，烟霞尽绝；峰岩倒塌，林树焦枯。你道怎么这等？只因他闹了天宫，拿上界去，此山被显圣二郎神率领那梅山七弟兄，放火烧坏了。这大圣倍加凄惨。有一篇败山颓景的古风为证。古风云：
The Pilgrim gave a single bound of his frame and vaulted clear across the Eastern Ocean, reaching the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit in no time at all. Pressing down his cloud-head and staring wide-eyed about him, he saw the mountain's flowers and grasses all gone, its mists and rosy clouds utterly spent; the peaks and crags had crumbled, the forests and trees were scorched and withered. How had it come to this? Only because, when he had raised his uproar in Heaven and been hauled up to the upper realm, this mountain had been set ablaze and ruined by the Manifest Sage, the god Erlang, who had led against it the seven sworn brothers of Plum Mountain. At this the Great Sage's grief was doubled. There is an old-style poem on the ruin and desolation of the mountain to bear witness. The poem says:
那 all deictic (那行者/那山上/那梅山); 將 jiāng (coverb); 倒塌 dǎo; 盡 jìn; 為證 wéi (bigram). 顯聖二郎 Erlang and the 梅山七聖, who razed the mountain during the Havoc in Heaven (ch. 6).
回顧仙山兩淚垂，對山悽慘更傷悲。
回顾仙山两泪垂，对山凄惨更伤悲。
Looking back on the immortal mountain, tears fall from both his eyes; facing it in its ruin, his grief and sorrow only deepen.
The poem opens in the third person, surveying the ruin before it turns to Wukong’s own voice.
當時只道山無損，今日方知地有虧。
当时只道山无损，今日方知地有亏。
In those days he thought the mountain could take no harm; only today does he learn that the very ground can fail.
只道…方知… “thought… only now learns…”: the structure of belated recognition.
可恨二郎將我滅，堪嗔小聖把人欺。
可恨二郎将我灭，堪嗔小圣把人欺。
Hateful, that Erlang came to wipe me out; loathsome, how that lesser sage lorded it over my folk.
將 jiāng, coverb “took and…” 二郎 Erlang, who subdued Wukong in the Havoc in Heaven.
行兇掘你先靈墓，無干破爾祖墳基。
行凶掘你先灵墓，无干破尔祖坟基。
In his cruelty he dug up your ancestors' hallowed graves; for no cause he broke the foundations of your forebears' tombs.
先靈墓/祖墳基: the razing figured as desecration of ancestral graves.
滿天霞霧皆消蕩，遍地風雲盡散稀。
满天霞雾皆消荡，遍地风云尽散稀。
The rosy mists that filled the sky are all swept clean away; the winds and clouds across the land are scattered thin and gone.
盡 jìn.
東嶺不聞斑虎嘯，西山那見白猿啼。
东岭不闻斑虎啸，西山那见白猿啼。
On the eastern ridge no striped tiger's roar is heard; on the western hill, where now the cry of a white ape?
那 nǎ, rhetorical “where would one…”
北谿狐兔無蹤跡，南谷獐𤜱沒影遺。
北谿狐兔无踪迹，南谷獐𤜱没影遗。
In the northern streams no track of fox or hare remains; in the southern valley the roe-deer and the 𤜱-beast pass without a shadow left behind.
𤜱 (U+24731) a mountain beast paired with 獐 (roe-deer); rare graph carried from ch27.
青石燒成千塊土，碧砂化作一堆泥。
青石烧成千块土，碧砂化作一堆泥。
The blue-grey stones are burned to a thousand clods of earth; the emerald sands are turned to a single heap of mud.
千塊土/一堆泥: the mountain’s stone and sand reduced to clod and mud.
洞外喬松皆倚倒，崖前翠柏盡稀少。
洞外乔松皆倚倒，崖前翠柏尽稀少。
Outside the cave the tall pines all lean and topple; before the cliff the green cypress stand sparse and few.
倒 dǎo (topple); 盡 jìn; 少 shǎo.
椿杉槐檜栗檀焦，桃杏李梅梨棗了。
椿杉槐桧栗檀焦，桃杏李梅梨枣了。
Cedar and fir, pagoda-tree and juniper, chestnut and sandalwood, all charred; peach and apricot, plum and prune, pear and jujube, all done for.
了 liǎo (finished, rhyming -ao with 少/鳥/草), not the particle le.
柘絕桑無怎養蠶？柳稀竹少難棲鳥。
柘绝桑无怎养蚕？柳稀竹少难栖鸟。
Cudrania gone and mulberry vanished — how now to raise the silkworms? Willows thinned and bamboo few — hard for the birds to roost.
少 shǎo; 難 nán.
峰頭巧石化為塵，澗底泉乾都是草。
峰头巧石化为尘，涧底泉干都是草。
On the peak the wondrous stones are turned to dust; at the ravine's bottom the springs run dry, all grown to grass.
為 wéi (become); 乾 gān (dry), not qián of 乾坤; 都 dōu (all).
崖前土黑沒芝蘭，路畔泥紅藤薜攀。
崖前土黑没芝兰，路畔泥红藤薜攀。
Before the cliff the blackened earth has buried iris and orchid; beside the path the reddened mud is overrun by vine and creeper.
土黑/泥紅: a parallel color-couplet of burned earth and scorched red mud.
往日飛禽飛那處？當時走獸走何山？
往日飞禽飞那处？当时走兽走何山？
The birds that flew here in days gone by — to what place do they fly now? The beasts that ran here in that time — over what mountain do they run?
那 nǎ, interrogative “what place”; 當時 dāng.
豹嫌蟒惡傾頹所，鶴避蛇回敗壞間。
豹嫌蟒恶倾颓所，鹤避蛇回败坏间。
Leopards shun, and pythons loathe, this place of ruin and collapse; cranes keep away, and snakes turn back, from the midst of the wreck.
間 jiān (midst).
想是日前行惡念，致令目下受艱難。
想是日前行恶念，致令目下受艰难。
It must be that in days past he harbored thoughts of evil, and so today he suffers these hardships and this grief.
行 xíng (do/commit); 難 nán (hardship). The poem's moralizing close.
總評 Commentary
The homecoming is a homecoming to ruin. Where the sea-rhapsody suspended the story outside Flower-Fruit Mountain, this old-style poem sets the reader down inside it, upon a wasteland: flowers gone, mists spent, crags fallen, forests charred. The narrator names the cause without softening it — this is the aftermath of the Havoc in Heaven, when Erlang and the seven brethren of Plum Mountain burned the mountain in reprisal for Wukong's revolt. The paradise of the novel's opening chapters has become a graveyard, and Wukong has come home to see it.
The poem's most striking move is its shift into the first person. Midway through, the survey of the dead landscape gives way to Wukong's own voice — “hateful, that Erlang came to wipe me out” — and the grievance is intensely personal: not the loss of a kingdom in the abstract but desecrated graves, broken tombs, a folk scattered. The closing couplet turns the lament inward once more, reading the devastation as karmic consequence of “thoughts of evil” harbored long ago. It is a rare instance of the monkey moralizing against himself, and it prepares the chapter's larger argument about the price of his own past deeds.
Formally the piece runs sixteen couplets in the loosely-rhyming 古風 manner, its rhyme shifting midway (the -ao turn at 少/鳥/草/了) as the catalogue of scorched trees builds to its bleakest point. The rare graph 𤜱, first met in ch. 27, recurs here in the southern-valley couplet, a small textual signature of this stretch of the novel.