桃花源記并詩 Peach Blossom Spring, with its Poem Tao Yuanming 陶淵明 (c. 365–427) Six Dynasties · c. 421 Cold Library · Open Stacks · S-002024 · https://coldlibrary.com/s/002024 Rights: Eastern Jin prose and verse; the author died in 427. 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/桃花源記 (retrieved 2026-10-11) English translation: Claude (an AI), 2026 · CC0 1.0 Generated 2026-10-14 from https://coldlibrary.com/en/open-stacks/tao-yuanming-peach-blossom-spring ---- 晉太元中，武陵人捕魚爲業。緣溪行，忘路之遠近。忽逢桃花林，夾岸數百步，中無雜樹，芳草鮮美，落英繽紛。漁人甚異之。復前行，欲窮其林。 林盡水源，便得一山，山有小口，髣髴若有光。便捨船，從口入，初極狹，纔通人。復行數十步，豁然開朗。土地平曠，屋舍儼然。有良田、美池、桑竹之屬。阡陌交通，鷄犬相聞。其中往來種作，男女衣著，悉如外人。黃髮垂髫，並怡然自樂。 見漁人，乃大驚，問所從來，具答之。便要還家，爲設酒殺鷄作食。村中聞有此人，咸來問訊。自云先世避秦時亂，率妻子邑人來此絶境，不復出焉，遂與外人間隔。問今是何世，乃不知有漢，無論魏晉。此人一一爲具言所聞，皆歎惋。餘人各復延至其家，皆出酒食。停數日，辭去。此中人語云：「不足爲外人道也。」 既出，得其船，便扶向路，處處誌之。及郡下，詣太守，説如此。太守即遣人隨其往，尋向所誌，遂迷，不復得路。 南陽劉子驥，高尚士也。聞之，欣然規往。未果，尋病終。後遂無問津者。 桃花源詩 嬴氏亂天紀，賢者避其世。黃綺之商山，伊人亦云逝。 往迹寖復湮，來逕遂蕪廢。相命肆農耕，日入從所憩。 桑竹垂餘蔭，菽稷隨時藝。春蠶收長絲，秋熟靡王稅。 荒路曖交通，鷄犬互鳴吠。俎豆猶古法，衣裳無新製。 童孺縱行歌，斑白歡遊詣。草榮識節和，木衰知風厲。 雖無紀曆誌，四時自成歲。怡然有餘樂，于何勞智慧。 奇蹤隱五百，一朝敞神界。淳薄既異源，旋復還幽蔽。 借問游方士，焉測塵囂外？願言躡輕風，高舉尋吾契。 ---- 晋太元中，武陵人捕鱼为业。缘溪行，忘路之远近。忽逢桃花林，夹岸数百步，中无杂树，芳草鲜美，落英缤纷。渔人甚异之。复前行，欲穷其林。 林尽水源，便得一山，山有小口，仿佛若有光。便舍船，从口入，初极狭，才通人。复行数十步，豁然开朗。土地平旷，屋舍俨然。有良田、美池、桑竹之属。阡陌交通，鸡犬相闻。其中往来种作，男女衣著，悉如外人。黄发垂髫，并怡然自乐。 见渔人，乃大惊，问所从来，具答之。便要还家，为设酒杀鸡作食。村中闻有此人，咸来问讯。自云先世避秦时乱，率妻子邑人来此绝境，不复出焉，遂与外人间隔。问今是何世，乃不知有汉，无论魏晋。此人一一为具言所闻，皆叹惋。余人各复延至其家，皆出酒食。停数日，辞去。此中人语云：「不足为外人道也。」 既出，得其船，便扶向路，处处志之。及郡下，诣太守，说如此。太守即遣人随其往，寻向所志，遂迷，不复得路。 南阳刘子骥，高尚士也。闻之，欣然规往。未果，寻病终。后遂无问津者。 桃花源诗 嬴氏乱天纪，贤者避其世。黄绮之商山，伊人亦云逝。 往迹寖复湮，来迳遂芜废。相命肆农耕，日入从所憩。 桑竹垂余荫，菽稷随时艺。春蚕收长丝，秋熟靡王税。 荒路暧交通，鸡犬互鸣吠。俎豆犹古法，衣裳无新制。 童孺纵行歌，斑白欢游诣。草荣识节和，木衰知风厉。 虽无纪历志，四时自成岁。怡然有余乐，于何劳智慧。 奇踪隐五百，一朝敞神界。淳薄既异源，旋复还幽蔽。 借问游方士，焉测尘嚣外？愿言蹑轻风，高举寻吾契。 ---- English translation by Claude (an AI) In the Taiyuan years of the Jin dynasty, there was a man of Wuling who made his living by fishing. He followed a stream and lost track of how far he had gone. Suddenly he came upon a grove of peach trees in blossom, lining both banks for several hundred paces, with no other kind of tree among them. The fragrant grass was fresh and lovely, and fallen petals lay thick and bright. The fisherman was amazed, and went on further, wanting to see where the grove ended. Where the grove ended, at the source of the stream, he found a hill, and in the hill a small opening from which there seemed to come a glimmer of light. He left his boat and went in through the opening. At first it was very narrow, barely wide enough for a person. After a few dozen more paces it suddenly opened out into a broad, bright space. The land was flat and wide, and the houses stood in neat rows. There were good fields, fine ponds, mulberry trees and bamboo. Paths ran between the fields in every direction, and the sound of roosters and dogs carried from one to the next. The men and women coming and going and working in the fields were dressed just like people outside. The old with their yellowed hair and the children with their tufts were all content and happy. When they saw the fisherman they were greatly surprised, and asked where he had come from. He told them everything. They invited him to their homes, set out wine, killed a chicken and made a meal for him. When the people of the village heard about him, they all came to ask him questions. They said that their ancestors had fled the troubles of the Qin dynasty and had brought their wives, children and neighbours to this remote place, and had never gone out again, and so had been cut off from the people outside. They asked what age it was now. They did not even know there had been a Han dynasty, let alone the Wei and the Jin. The fisherman told them, one by one, everything he had heard, and they all sighed. The others each invited him to their homes in turn and brought out wine and food. After staying several days he took his leave. The people there told him: "It is not worth speaking of this to the people outside." When he came out he found his boat and went back along the way he had come, marking the places as he went. When he reached the prefectural town he went to see the governor and told him all this. The governor at once sent people to go back with him and look for the marks he had made, but they lost their way and could not find the path again. Liu Ziji of Nanyang was a scholar of lofty character. When he heard of this he gladly made plans to go there. Before he could do so he fell ill and passed away. After that no one asked the way to the ford. The Poem of Peach Blossom Spring When the Ying clan threw heaven's order into chaos, worthy men withdrew from that age. Huang and Qi went to Mount Shang, and these people too went away. The traces of their going sank slowly out of sight, the path they took grew wild and was lost. They called on one another to work the fields, and at sunset each went home to rest. Mulberry and bamboo cast their ample shade, beans and millet were sown in their season. In spring the silkworms gave long threads; at the autumn harvest there was no king's tax. Overgrown paths dimly crossed and met, roosters and dogs called back and forth. Their sacrificial vessels kept the ancient forms, their clothes were made in no new style. Children wandered freely, singing; the white-haired went visiting, glad. When grass grew lush they knew the season was mild; when trees grew bare they knew the wind was sharp. Though they had no calendar or records, the four seasons made a year of themselves. Content, with joy to spare, what need had they to labour with cleverness? These rare traces stayed hidden five hundred years, then one morning that hidden world lay open. But the pure and the shallow come from different springs, and soon it was closed and hidden once more. May I ask you, who roam within the world: how can you fathom what lies beyond its dust and noise? I would like to tread the light wind and rise high to find those of my own kind.