蘭亭集序兰亭集序

永和九年，歲在癸丑，暮春之初，會于會稽山陰之蘭亭，脩禊事也。羣賢畢至，少長咸集。此地有崇山峻岭，茂林脩竹；又有清流激湍，映帶左右。引以為流觴曲水，列坐其次。雖無絲竹管弦之盛，一觴一詠，亦足以暢敘幽情。是日也，天朗氣清，惠風和暢；仰觀宇宙之大，俯察品類之盛；所以遊目騁懷，足以極視聽之娛，信可樂也。

永和九年，岁在癸丑，暮春之初，会于会稽山阴之兰亭，修禊事也。群贤毕至，少长咸集。此地有崇山峻岭，茂林修竹；又有清流激湍，映带左右。引以为流觞曲水，列坐其次。虽无丝竹管弦之盛，一觞一咏，亦足以畅叙幽情。是日也，天朗气清，惠风和畅；仰观宇宙之大，俯察品类之盛；所以游目骋怀，足以极视听之娱，信可乐也。

In the ninth year of Yonghe, the year guichou, at the beginning of late spring, we gathered at the Orchid Pavilion in Shanyin, in Kuaiji, for the spring purification. All the worthies came, young and old together. The place has high mountains and steep ridges, dense woods and tall bamboo, and a clear stream rushing over the rocks, its light reflected on either side. We led the water into a winding channel for floating the wine cups, and sat in order along its banks. Though there was none of the splendour of strings and flutes, a cup of wine and a poem were enough for each of us to share what was deep in our hearts. That day the sky was bright and the air was clear, and a gentle breeze blew softly. Looking up, we saw the vastness of the universe; looking down, we saw the abundance of all living things. Letting our eyes roam and our hearts range freely, we could enjoy to the full everything there was to see and hear. It was truly a joy.

夫人之相與，俯仰一世，或取諸懷抱，悟言一室之內，或因寄所託，放浪形骸之外。雖趣舍萬殊，靜躁不同，當其欣於所遇，暫得於己，快然自足，不知老之將至。及其所之既倦，情隨事遷，感慨係之矣。向之所欣，俯仰之間已為陳跡，猶不能不以之興懷；況脩短隨化，終期於盡。古人云：「死生亦大矣。」豈不痛哉！

夫人之相与，俯仰一世，或取诸怀抱，悟言一室之内，或因寄所托，放浪形骸之外。虽趣舍万殊，静躁不同，当其欣于所遇，暂得于己，快然自足，不知老之将至。及其所之既倦，情随事迁，感慨系之矣。向之所欣，俯仰之间已为陈迹，犹不能不以之兴怀；况修短随化，终期于尽。古人云：「死生亦大矣。」岂不痛哉！

When people live together in this world, a lifetime passes in the time it takes to look up and down. Some open their hearts in conversation within a single room; others give themselves to what they love and roam free beyond the bounds of the body. Though what they choose and what they reject differ in ten thousand ways, and some are quiet and some restless, when they are glad at what they meet and for a while have found themselves, they are content and satisfied, and do not notice that old age is coming. But when they tire of what they pursued, and feelings change with circumstances, a sadness follows. What delighted them a moment ago has, in the time of a glance, become a thing of the past, and still they cannot help being moved by it. And all the more so, since whether life is long or short, it follows the great change and comes in the end to its close. The ancients said: "Life and death are great matters indeed." How can this not be painful?

每覽昔人興感之由，若合一契，未嘗不臨文嗟悼，不能喻之於懷。固知一死生為虛誕，齊彭殤為妄作。後之視今，亦猶今之視昔，悲夫！故列敘時人，錄其所述，雖世殊事異，所以興懷，其致一也。後之覽者，亦將有感於斯文。

每览昔人兴感之由，若合一契，未尝不临文嗟悼，不能喻之于怀。固知一死生为虚诞，齐彭殇为妄作。后之视今，亦犹今之视昔，悲夫！故列叙时人，录其所述，虽世殊事异，所以兴怀，其致一也。后之览者，亦将有感于斯文。

Each time I read the reasons the people of the past were moved, they match my own like the two halves of a tally. I have never read their words without sighing over them, though I could not explain it to myself. Now I know that to treat life and death as one is an empty fancy, and to say a long life and a short one are the same is a false claim. Those who come after will look on us as we look on those who came before. Is this not sad? So I have listed the people who were here and recorded what they wrote. Though times will be different and circumstances will change, what moves people is the same. Those who read this in later days will also be moved by these words.