前赤壁賦
The Red Cliff Rhapsody (the first)
Su Shi 蘇軾 (1037–1101)
Song · 1082

Cold Library · Open Stacks · S-002023 · https://coldlibrary.com/s/002023
Rights: Northern Song prose; the author died in 1101. Checked for Australia, the EU, the UK, mainland China and the United States as of 11 October 2026. Guidance, not legal advice.
Source: Wikisource, https://zh.wikisource.org/wiki/前赤壁賦 (retrieved 2026-10-11)
English translation: Claude (an AI), 2026 · CC0 1.0
Generated 2026-10-14 from https://coldlibrary.com/en/open-stacks/su-shi-red-cliff-rhapsody

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壬戌之秋，七月既望，蘇子與客泛舟游于赤壁之下。清風徐來，水波不興。舉酒屬客，誦《明月》之詩，歌《窈窕》之章。少焉，月出於東山之上，徘徊於斗、牛之間。白露橫江，水光接天。縱一葦之所如，凌萬頃之茫然。浩浩乎如馮虛御風，而不知其所止；飄飄乎如遺世獨立，羽化而登僊。

於是飲酒樂甚，扣舷而歌之。歌曰：「桂棹兮蘭槳，擊空明兮泝流光。渺渺兮予懷，望美人兮天一方。」客有吹洞簫者，倚歌而和之。其聲嗚嗚然，如怨如慕、如泣如訴，餘音嫋嫋，不絕如縷，舞幽壑之潛蛟，泣孤舟之嫠婦。

蘇子愀然，正襟危坐而問客曰：「何為其然也？」

客曰：「『月明星稀，烏鵲南飛』，此非曹孟德之詩乎？西望夏口，東望武昌，山川相繆，鬱乎蒼蒼，此非孟德之困於周郎者乎？方其破荊州，下江陵，順流而東也，舳艫千里，旌旗蔽空，釃酒臨江，橫槊賦詩，固一世之雄也，而今安在哉？況吾與子漁樵於江渚之上，侶魚蝦而友麋鹿；駕一葉之扁舟，舉匏罇以相屬。寄蜉蝣於天地，渺滄海之一粟。哀吾生之須臾，羨長江之無窮。挾飛仙以遨游，抱明月而長終。知不可乎驟得，託遺響於悲風。」

蘇子曰：「客亦知夫水與月乎？逝者如斯，而未嘗往也；盈虛者如彼，而卒莫消長也，蓋將自其變者而觀之，則天地曾不能以一瞬；自其不變者而觀之，則物與我皆無盡也，而又何羨乎！且夫天地之間，物各有主，苟非吾之所有，雖一毫而莫取。惟江上之清風，與山間之明月，耳得之而為聲，目遇之而成色，取之無禁，用之不竭，是造物者之無盡藏也，而吾與子之所共食。」

客喜而笑，洗盞更酌，肴核既盡，杯盤狼籍。相與枕藉乎舟中，不知東方之既白。

軾去歲作此賦，未嘗輕出以示人，見者蓋一二人而已。欽之有使至求近文，遂親書以寄。多難畏事。欽之愛我，必深藏之不出也。又有後赤壁賦，筆倦未能寫，當俟後信。軾白。

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壬戌之秋，七月既望，苏子与客泛舟游于赤壁之下。清风徐来，水波不兴。举酒属客，诵《明月》之诗，歌《窈窕》之章。少焉，月出于东山之上，徘徊于斗、牛之间。白露横江，水光接天。纵一苇之所如，凌万顷之茫然。浩浩乎如冯虚御风，而不知其所止；飘飘乎如遗世独立，羽化而登仙。

于是饮酒乐甚，扣舷而歌之。歌曰：「桂棹兮兰桨，击空明兮溯流光。渺渺兮予怀，望美人兮天一方。」客有吹洞箫者，倚歌而和之。其声呜呜然，如怨如慕、如泣如诉，余音袅袅，不绝如缕，舞幽壑之潜蛟，泣孤舟之嫠妇。

苏子愀然，正襟危坐而问客曰：「何为其然也？」

客曰：「『月明星稀，乌鹊南飞』，此非曹孟德之诗乎？西望夏口，东望武昌，山川相缪，郁乎苍苍，此非孟德之困于周郎者乎？方其破荆州，下江陵，顺流而东也，舳舻千里，旌旗蔽空，酾酒临江，横槊赋诗，固一世之雄也，而今安在哉？况吾与子渔樵于江渚之上，侣鱼虾而友麋鹿；驾一叶之扁舟，举匏樽以相属。寄蜉蝣于天地，渺沧海之一粟。哀吾生之须臾，羡长江之无穷。挟飞仙以遨游，抱明月而长终。知不可乎骤得，托遗响于悲风。」

苏子曰：「客亦知夫水与月乎？逝者如斯，而未尝往也；盈虚者如彼，而卒莫消长也，盖将自其变者而观之，则天地曾不能以一瞬；自其不变者而观之，则物与我皆无尽也，而又何羡乎！且夫天地之间，物各有主，苟非吾之所有，虽一毫而莫取。惟江上之清风，与山间之明月，耳得之而为声，目遇之而成色，取之无禁，用之不竭，是造物者之无尽藏也，而吾与子之所共食。」

客喜而笑，洗盏更酌，肴核既尽，杯盘狼籍。相与枕藉乎舟中，不知东方之既白。

轼去岁作此赋，未尝轻出以示人，见者盖一二人而已。钦之有使至求近文，遂亲书以寄。多难畏事。钦之爱我，必深藏之不出也。又有后赤壁赋，笔倦未能写，当俟后信。轼白。

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English translation by Claude (an AI)

In the autumn of the year renxu, on the sixteenth night of the seventh month, Master Su and his guests went boating below the Red Cliff. A cool breeze blew gently, and the water lay without a ripple. Raising our cups to one another, we recited the poem of the bright moon and sang the verse about the lovely maiden. After a while the moon rose above the eastern hills and lingered between the Dipper and the Ox. A white mist lay across the river, and the gleam of the water reached up to the sky. We let our little reed of a boat go where it would, out over ten thousand acres of shimmering emptiness. Vast and free, as if riding the air and driving the wind, not knowing where we would stop; light and drifting, as if leaving the world behind and standing alone, growing wings and rising to join the immortals.

Then we drank and were very happy, and beat time on the side of the boat and sang. The song went: "Oars of cassia, sweeps of orchid, striking the clear water, moving upstream through the flowing light. Far, far away is what I long for: my fair one, at the other side of the sky." One of the guests played the flute, following the song in harmony. Its sound was low and mournful, as if longing, as if yearning, as if weeping, as if pleading. The lingering notes trailed on, thin as a thread and never broken, enough to make the dragons hidden in the dark gorges dance and the widow in a lonely boat weep.

Master Su's face grew sad. He straightened his robe, sat up and asked his guest: "Why does it sound like that?"

The guest said: "'The moon is bright, the stars are few, the crows and magpies fly south': is that not a poem of Cao Mengde? Looking west towards Xiakou and east towards Wuchang, where mountains and river twist together in dense green: is this not where Mengde was hemmed in by young Zhou Yu? When he had taken Jingzhou and come down to Jiangling, and was sailing east with the current, his ships stretched stem to stern for a thousand miles, his banners hid the sky. He poured wine as he faced the river and composed poems with his spear across his knees. He was surely the hero of his age. Yet where is he now? And you and I, fishermen and woodcutters on the river islands, with fish and shrimp for companions and deer for friends, riding a boat like a single leaf and raising gourd cups to each other: we are mayflies lodged between heaven and earth, a single grain of millet in the vast sea. I grieve that our life is so brief, and envy the Long River that has no end. I would like to take the flying immortals by the arm and roam with them, to hold the bright moon and last forever. I know this cannot be had all at once, so I have given these lingering notes to the sad wind."

Master Su said: "Do you know the water and the moon? The water flows away like this, yet it has never gone. The moon waxes and wanes like that, yet in the end it neither grows nor shrinks. If you look at it from the side of change, heaven and earth do not last for the blink of an eye. If you look at it from the side of what does not change, then things and we ourselves are both without end. So what is there to envy? Besides, everything between heaven and earth has its owner. If something is not mine, I will not take even a hair of it. Only the cool breeze on the river and the bright moon over the mountains, which the ear takes in as sound and the eye meets as colour: no one forbids us to take them, and using them never wears them out. They are the inexhaustible treasury of the maker of things, and you and I can enjoy them together."

The guest was pleased and laughed. We washed the cups and poured again. When the food and fruit were finished, the cups and plates lay scattered about, and we fell asleep against one another in the boat, not knowing that the east was already growing light.

I wrote this rhapsody last year and have not lightly shown it to anyone; only one or two people have seen it. Qinzhi sent a messenger asking for something I had written recently, so I copied it out myself to send to him. I have been through many troubles and am wary of more. Qinzhi cares for me and will surely keep it hidden and not let it out. There is also a later Red Cliff rhapsody, but my brush is tired and I have not been able to write it out; it will have to wait for the next letter. Shi.