原文 Original text
繁體 Traditional
Reader's edition
菩薩嘆詩
The Bodhisattva's Lament
菩薩看罷，嘆惜不已，作詩一首。詩曰：菩萨看罢，叹惜不已，作诗一首。诗曰：
堪嘆妖猴不奉公，堪叹妖猴不奉公，
當年狂妄逞英雄。当年狂妄逞英雄。
欺心攪亂蟠桃會，欺心搅乱蟠桃会，
大膽私行兜率宮。大胆私行兜率宫。
十萬軍中無敵手，十万军中无敌手，
九重天上有威風。九重天上有威风。
自遭我佛如來困，自遭我佛如来困，
何日舒伸再顯功？何日舒伸再显功？
逐句解 Line by line
菩薩看罷，嘆惜不已，作詩一首。詩曰：
菩萨看罢，叹惜不已，作诗一首。诗曰：
When the Bodhisattva had looked, she sighed without ceasing and composed a poem. It says:
不已 — 不 takes bù before third-tone 已; 一首 takes yì. 詩曰 introduces the eight-line regulated poem.
堪嘆妖猴不奉公，
堪叹妖猴不奉公，
Pity the demon-monkey who would not serve the common good,
不奉公 — 不 takes bú before fourth-tone 奉.
當年狂妄逞英雄。
当年狂妄逞英雄。
who in his day, wild and arrogant, played the hero.
欺心攪亂蟠桃會，
欺心搅乱蟠桃会，
With a deceitful heart he wrecked the Peach Festival,
大膽私行兜率宮。
大胆私行兜率宫。
and brazenly stole into the Tuṣita Palace.
兜率宮 — the Tuṣita Heaven palace of Laozi, whose elixir the monkey stole; 率 here is read shuài.
十萬軍中無敵手，
十万军中无敌手，
Among a hundred thousand troops he met no match,
九重天上有威風。
九重天上有威风。
and in the ninefold heaven his might held sway.
九重天 — the ninefold heaven; 重 is read chóng.
自遭我佛如來困，
自遭我佛如来困，
Since he met our Buddha the Tathāgata's snare,
何日舒伸再顯功？
何日舒伸再显功？
what day shall he stretch free and show his powers again?
總評 Commentary
At the sight of the pinned monkey the Bodhisattva sighs and composes a regulated eight-line poem — the chapter's last interpolated verse, and a striking shift of register. Where the action treats Wukong as a culprit to be reformed, the poem mourns him, balancing his crimes against the heroism that made them possible.
The verse is double-edged: it catalogues the offenses (wrecking the Peach Festival, robbing the Tuṣita Palace) yet dwells with evident admiration on the matchless might — 十萬軍中無敵手，九重天上有威風. Andrew Plaks notes that the novel never lets the monkey become a mere villain; even his punishment is framed as a tragic suspension of greatness, the closing question — when will he stretch free? — voicing something close to sympathy.
Following Anthony C. Yu, the lament prepares the reader to accept Wukong's coming redemption as a recovery rather than a mere pardon. His power was never the problem; its lack of discipline was. The poem's grief is for a force gone to waste, and the pilgrimage will be the channel that puts it, at last, to use.