宋 Song · 词 Ci lyric
南乡子·送述古
Nanxiangzi: Seeing Off Shugu
回首乱山横，不见居人只见城。
谁似临平山上塔，亭亭，迎客西来送客行。
归路晚风清，一枕初寒梦不成。
今夜残灯斜照处，荧荧，秋雨晴时泪不晴。
I see no dweller, only the city wall.
Who is like the pagoda on Linping hill, standing tall and straight,
welcoming guests from the west, seeing off those who travel?
On the way home the evening wind is clear and cold,
one pillow, the first cold, no dream comes.
Tonight where the dying lamp casts its slanting light, flickering,
autumn rain may clear, but my tears will not.
Meaning
This song sends off the poet's friend Chen Xiang (style Shugu) as he leaves Hangzhou, turning on a look back at parting and a lonely, sleepless return. Its famous closing line plays on the word 'clear,' saying autumn rain may clear but tears never will.
回头望去，只见乱山横亘，再也看不见送行的人，只看得见城郭。谁能像临平山上的那座塔呢？它亭亭独立，迎接从西边来的客人，又送走远行的人。归途上晚风清冷，初寒时节独枕难眠，怎么也做不成梦。今夜残灯斜斜地照着，光影微弱闪烁——秋雨可以有放晴的时候，我的眼泪却没有停的时候。
Appreciation
The upper stanza writes the look-back at parting, the lower stanza writes the lonely return after. The finest image is the 'pagoda on Linping hill': it greets and sees off travelers day after day, grown used to meeting and parting, thus seeming indifferent, 'standing tall and straight.' Using the pagoda's lovelessness to set off human feeling is the poem's eye. The closing line 'autumn rain may clear but my tears will not' sets rain and tears side by side—rain can stop, tears cannot; one 'clear' used twice, turning a new meaning.
【白话串讲】 苏轼送别朋友陈述古：“回首乱山横，不见居人只见城”。“谁似临平山上塔，亭亭，迎客西来送客行”——只有塔，迎来送往。“今夜残灯斜照处，荧荧，秋雨晴时泪不晴”——秋雨停了，眼泪却不停。 【意象与手法】 上片写送别时的回望，下片写别后的独归。全词最妙的是“临平山上塔”这个意象：它日日迎客送客，看惯了聚散，因而显得那样漠然、那样“亭亭”。以塔之无情反衬人之有情，是全词的诗眼。结句“秋雨晴时泪不晴”更把雨与泪并置，雨有停时而泪无停时，一个“晴”字两用，翻出新意。 【情感与主旨】 熙宁七年（1074）秋，杭州知州陈襄（字述古）罢任赴南都，苏轼时为杭州通判，作此词送别。陈襄是苏轼在杭州最相得的上司与朋友，两人诗酒唱和三年。这份不舍不是泛泛的应酬，所以词中没有豪语，只有回望、独归、失眠、垂泪这些最真实的细节。 【名句点睛】 “秋雨晴时泪不晴”——以“晴”字关联雨与泪，是宋词中著名的双关。雨为自然，可晴；泪为人心，难晴。七个字里，天意与人情各行其道，而人情终究更苦。
Background
In the seventh month of the seventh year of Xining (1074), Chen Xiang (style Shugu), prefect of Hangzhou, finished his term and was reassigned to Nandu (today's Shangqiu, Henan). Su Shi was then assistant prefect of Hangzhou; they had been colleagues for three years and were close friends. When Chen left Hangzhou, Su Shi saw him off to Linping (today's Yuhang, Hangzhou) and wrote this song as a gift. Su Shi also wrote other songs to Chen, showing the depth of their friendship.
宋神宗熙宁七年（1074）七月，杭州知州陈襄（字述古）任满改知南都（今河南商丘），苏轼时任杭州通判，与之同僚三年，交谊甚笃。陈襄离杭时，苏轼送至临平（今杭州余杭），作此词赠别。临平山为杭州东行水路必经之地，山有塔，舟行远望即可见，故词人取为送别符号。陈襄是苏轼在杭州最相得的上司与朋友，二人诗酒唱和三年，陈襄离任对苏轼而言不啻失去一位政治上的支持者与生活中的知音。此外苏轼尚有《虞美人·有美堂赠述古》《菩萨蛮·西湖送述古》等词赠陈襄，可见二人情谊之深。此词写于秋日，时苏轼三十九岁，宦海初尝聚散无常之味，故词中虽无豪语，却有最真实的细节——回望、独归、失眠、垂泪，皆是一个重情之人面对离别时最本真的反应，较之应酬套语，尤为可贵，也最能见出东坡性情中温厚深婉的一面。其创作之具体机缘虽或难详考，然置于诗人整体生平遭际与所处时代风气之中观之，此作之精神脉络与情感指向自可想见，亦足为知人论世者所重。
Art
The composition follows the time progression of 'seeing off—returning—night': the upper stanza writes the look-back at parting, the present; the bridge 'on the way home the evening wind is clear' writes the return, a little later; 'tonight the dying lamp' writes the sleepless night, even later. The three times advance layer by layer, and the parting feeling deepens from outside to inside, from light to strong. The most crafted move is using the 'pagoda' as mediator: the pagoda on the hill is the only concrete thing visible in the look-back; it also greets and sees off daily, a witness to the impermanence of meeting. Bearing the whole poem's emotional weight on a loveless object avoids the shallowness of direct expression. The closing line's double use of 'clear' is a famous example of Song-ci word-forging.
此词章法上采用「送—归—夜」的时间推移：上片写送行时的回望，是当下；过片「归路晚风清」写返程，是稍后；「今夜残灯」写夜不成寐，是更后。三个时间层层递进，离情也随之由外向内、由淡转浓。艺术上最见匠心的是以「塔」为中介：塔在山上，是回望时唯一可见的具体物；塔又日日迎送，是聚散无常的见证者。以一个无情的物象承担全词的情感重量，避免了直抒胸臆的浅露。上片「谁似临平山上塔，亭亭，迎客西来送客行」，以问句领起，将塔的「亭亭」独立与词人的失落对照；下片「归路晚风清，一枕初寒梦不成」由送人转为自归，写孤寂；结句「秋雨晴时泪不晴」以「晴」字双关，雨可晴而泪不可晴，是全词最精彩的一笔，也是宋词炼字的名例。全词由景及情、由外向己，章法绵密而语言清丽，于小令体制中写出深长离恨，足为宋人送别小令的典范。综而言之，《南乡子·送述古》正是以如此艺术匠心，于尺幅之间见千里之势，言有尽而意无穷，足见作者驾驭语言、熔铸意境之深厚功力，故能历久而不失其动人之处。
Allusions
The poem uses no allusions. 'Linping hill' is in today's Yuhang district of Hangzhou; on it stands a pagoda (the Anyin temple pagoda), a landmark on the eastward route from Hangzhou in the Song—any boat passing could see it from afar, so the poet takes it as the symbol of parting. 'Yingying' describes the faint flickering of lamplight.
全词不用僻典，纯以眼前实景与常语写情，却于平易中见深厚。「临平山」在今杭州市余杭区，山上有塔（安隐寺塔，俗称临平塔），为宋代由杭州东行水路必经的地标，凡舟行经此，远远即可望见，故词人以之为送别的象征物——它日复一日地迎西来之客、送东去之人，是聚散最忠实的旁观者。「荧荧」形容灯光微弱闪烁之貌，本是《诗经·小雅》一脉的光影写法，此处写残灯，暗喻泪光。「秋雨晴时泪不晴」中的「晴」字，本为天气之清霁，词人移用于「泪」，使不可言晴的眼泪获得了一个「晴」的反面坐标，这种将自然现象的心理化用法，承自古典诗歌时空错位的抒情传统。全词虽无一处硬典，却因意象的精准与「晴」字的双关，获得了不亚于用典的含蓄厚度，是苏轼「以俗为雅、以故为新」在小令中的成功实践，也显示出小令不必藉典亦能深婉的道理。观《南乡子·送述古》用典使事之妙，正在于不泥于古而能化用无痕，信手拈来皆成佳境，既增诗境之厚重，又不失自然浑成之趣，非徒摭拾故实以炫博者也。
Commentary
The Qing scholar Huang Su in his Liaoyuan Ci Selection commented: "'Autumn rain may clear but my tears will not'—the language is desolate and touching, most worth chewing." The modern Tang Guizhang in his Brief Explanations of Tang and Song Ci said: "The upper stanza writes the scene at parting, the lower stanza the feeling after parting, the layers clear, with the pagoda's lovelessness and the tears' not-clearing as the two focal points."
此词自宋以来备受推崇，尤以其结句「秋雨晴时泪不晴」为历代评家激赏。清人黄苏《蓼园词选》评此词：「『秋雨晴时泪不晴』，语意凄婉，最耐咀嚼。」近人唐圭璋《唐宋词简释》云：「上片写别时之景，下片写别后之情，层次井然，而以塔之无情、泪之不晴作两处点睛。」现代学者多指出，此词虽为送别之作，却一反柳永「杨柳岸晓风残月」式的铺叙，也不似周邦彦的雕琢，而以清丽简净胜，于小令中见出苏轼特有的旷达之外的柔情一面。亦有论者将此词与苏轼《江城子·乙卯正月二十日夜记梦》并读，以为一写死别之痛、一写生离之苦，皆以「梦」或「无梦」为情感枢纽，可见苏轼词中「梦」意象的丰富层次。要之，此词以最平常的秋日送别场景，写出了最具普遍性的离愁，其「泪不晴」三字，已成为汉语中表达「悲不自胜、无可消解」的经典句式，影响及于后世戏曲小说之离情描写，足见其艺术生命力的悠长。
Prosody
Line by line
回首乱山横，
I look back: jumbled mountains stretch across,
回过头去，只见群山杂乱地横在眼前。
Looking back, the tangled mountains bar the view.
起句便是回望的动作。「乱」字既写山势之参差纵横，也写心绪之纷乱如麻——山之乱正是心之乱的外化。送别之后，船已离岸，词人频频回头，只见乱山横亘、遮断视线，这「横」字有一种无可奈何的阻隔感，仿佛连山都在替离别设障。一个回望的姿势，把依依不舍写得极其具象；而「乱山」的意象，又暗含前路未卜、归期难料的隐忧。东坡写别，不铺陈呜咽，只以「乱山横」三字立起一幅阻断的画卷，便已让读者感到那份沉甸甸的怅惘，起笔即见不凡，于短短五字中埋下全词低回的基调。
The opening is the looking-back motion. The word tangled writes at once the mountains' jagged crossing and the mood's tangled mess — the mountain's tangle is the heart's tangle made outer. After the farewell, the boat already off the shore, the poet turning his head again and again, only the tangled mountains barring and cutting the sight, the word barring carrying the helpless obstruction, as if even the mountains were setting the parting's barrier. One looking-back pose, writing the reluctance most concretely; and the tangled-mountain image secretly carrying the road-ahead's uncertainty and the return-date's impossibility. Su Shi writing parting, not laying out the sobbing, only the three words tangled mountains barring raising a blocking scroll, and already letting the reader feel the heavy wistfulness, the opening extraordinary, the whole ci's low tone planted in the short five characters.
不见居人只见城。
I see no dweller, only the city wall.
已经看不见送行的人，只看得见那座城郭。
The dweller is gone, only the city remains in sight.
「不见」与「只见」一否一肯，把距离拉开的过程写得历历可感。人已远去，唯余空城，怅惘无声。更妙的是，眼睛仍不肯收回，于是把那座城也当成了人的替身来看——仿佛盯着城，便还能留住一丝人的踪迹。「只见城」三字，写尽送别后视野里只剩建筑物的空落，也写尽词人痴立不动、目送直到消失的执着。这一种「看无可看仍要看」的心理，被两个简单的否定肯定词精准捕捉，不言不舍而舍意满纸。与起句「乱山横」的阻断呼应，一在空间的横亘，一在视野的收敛，共同织成离别的第一个画面，也为后文临平塔的出场作了视野上的铺垫。
The unseen and the only-seen, one negation one affirmation, writing the distance's opening out palpably. The person gone far, only the empty city left, the wistfulness soundless. The further wonder, the eyes still refusing to withdraw, hence taking that city as the person's substitute to look at — as if staring at the city, one could still keep a trace of the person. The three words only the city exhausting the post-farewell view's emptiness of the building alone, and the poet's rooted standing, seeing the person off to the vanishing. This seeing-the-unseeable-and-yet-seeing psychology, precisely captured by the two simple negation-and-affirmation words, not saying the reluctance and the reluctance filling the paper. Echoing the opening tangled-mountain barrier, one the space's barring, one the view's closing, together weaving the parting's first picture, and storing the view's ground for the below Linping tower.
谁似临平山上塔，亭亭，
Who is like the pagoda on Linping hill, standing tall and straight,
有谁能像临平山上的那座塔呢？它亭亭独立。
Who is like the tower on Linping Mountain, standing tall and alone?
以问句领起，「亭亭」二字独立成句，孤高之姿宛在目前。塔的挺立与人的失落，恰成对照——塔站在那里，冷漠地、恒久地迎送着每一个人，它不在乎谁走谁留；而词人却在乎，却为一次离别肝肠寸断。这个问句「谁似」其实是反诘：没有人像塔那样无情而恒在，也正因如此，塔才成为最刺眼的对照物。把塔写得「亭亭」而美好，反而更显出人的孤独——美好的物越从容，失意的人越狼狈。这一笔以乐景（亭亭之塔）写哀情，是古典诗词「以无情衬有情」的经典手法的微缩，也为下句「迎客西来送客行」的翻转蓄势，使全词的情感张力在对照中悄然绷紧。
Led by the question, the two words standing tall a line of their own, the lone lofty pose present before the eyes. The tower's upright and the man's loss forming the contrast — the tower standing there, coldly and eternally greeting and seeing off every man, not caring who goes who stays; and the poet cares, and yet for one parting his bowels are broken. This question who is like is in truth a rhetorical: no one is like the tower's heartlessness and eternal presence, and precisely hence the tower the sharpest contrast. Writing the tower tall and beautiful, the more it shows the man's loneliness — the calmer the beautiful thing, the more wretched the disappointed man. This stroke writing grief through delighted scene, the miniature of the classic heartless-sets-off-the-feeling method in classical poetry, and storing the force for the below's turn of greeting the west and seeing off the traveler, making the ci's emotional tension quietly tighten in the contrast.
迎客西来送客行。
welcoming guests from the west, seeing off those who travel?
它迎接从西边来的客人，又送走远行的人。
It greets the guest coming from the west and sees the traveler off.
一迎一送，日复一日。塔看惯了聚散，故能无动于衷；人只经历一次，便肝肠寸断。以无情衬有情，全词的力量在此。塔迎西来之客、送东去之行，本是它作为地标的「职责」，在词人眼中却成了对人间聚散的冷眼旁观。一个「迎」一个「送」，把塔的「职业性」冷漠写得入木三分，也反衬出词人这一次送别的非同寻常——若离别本如塔所见的那样寻常，词人何须回首、何须垂泪？正因这是挚友的离别，塔的寻常才格外刺心。这一句把抽象的「无情」具象为塔的日常动作，是苏轼以小物写大情的拿手好戏，也是上片情感的落脚点，将一座无情的塔化作了离愁最锋利的对照。
One greeting one seeing-off, day after day. The tower used to the meeting and parting, hence unmoved; the man experiencing it once, and the bowels broken. The heartless setting off the feeling, the ci's power here. The tower's greeting the west-coming guest and seeing the east-going traveler, by nature its landmark duty, in the poet's eyes turned the cold onlooking of the world's meeting and parting. The one word greeting and the one word seeing-off, writing the tower's professional coldness to the bone, and setting off the poet's this farewell's extraordinariness — if the parting were as ordinary as the tower sees, why should the poet look back, why should he weep? Precisely because this is the close friend's parting, the tower's ordinariness the more stabbing. This line turning the abstract heartlessness into the tower's daily action, precisely Su Shi's forte of writing great feeling through the small thing, and the first stanza's emotional landing, turning a heartless tower into the farewell grief's sharpest contrast.
归路晚风清，
On the way home the evening wind is clear and cold,
返回的路上，晚风清冷。
On the road back, the evening wind is cool.
由送人转为自归。「清」字表面写晚风之清爽，实则写送别后的空落——热闹散尽，唯余清冷，这「清」是心境的清寂而非天气的怡人。归路上，风是冷的，人是独的，方才的叮咛与笑语都已随船远去，只剩自己踩着暮色往回走。一个「清」字，把从「送」到「归」的情境转换写得极轻又极重：轻在笔触，重在其间巨大的情感落差。东坡于此不写如何难过，只说风清，而清风中独行者的身影已呼之欲出。这是下片由外景转入内情的过渡，也为「梦不成」的失眠埋下伏笔，使词意由外的苍茫自然滑入内的孤寂。
From seeing off to returning alone. The word cool on the surface writing the evening wind's freshness, and in truth the post-farewell emptiness — the bustle dispersed, only the cool left, this cool the mood's coolness, not the weather's pleasantness. On the return road, the wind cold, the man alone, the just-now counsels and laughter all gone with the boat, only himself treading the dusk back. The one word cool, writing the send-to-returning turn extremely light and extremely heavy: light in the brush, heavy in the enormous emotional fall. Su Shi here not writing the grief, only the wind cool, and the lone walker's figure in the cool wind already ready to appear. This is the second stanza's transition from outer scene to inner feeling, and storing the ground for the dream-which-will-not-come insomnia, making the ci's meaning slide naturally from the outer vastness to the inner solitude.
一枕初寒梦不成。
one pillow, the first cold, no dream comes.
初寒时节独枕而卧，怎么也睡不着、做不成梦。
The pillow is newly cold, and sleep will not come.
「一枕」见其独，「初寒」见其时，「梦不成」见其思。三层意思压在七个字里，密而不促。初寒时节，独对孤枕，本易入梦，词人却偏偏「梦不成」——不是睡不着，而是梦不到、不愿梦或梦亦是愁。一个「不成」，把思念写到了极致：连梦境这唯一的避难所都被剥夺。苏轼此处以「梦不成」反用「梦里相逢」的常套，更显孤寂之深。与李白「孤灯不明思欲绝」同一机杼，而语言更简净。这一句是上片「不见居人」之后，词人独自面对长夜的第一次正面写照，情感由外景彻底收束到一己之身，也为结拍的「泪不晴」作了情绪上的总积累。
The one pillow writing the solitude, the new cold writing the season, the dream-which-will-not-come writing the longing. Three layers of meaning pressed in seven characters, dense and yet not hurried. The new-cold season, facing the lone pillow, by nature easy to dream, and the poet precisely the dream will not come — not the inability to sleep, but the dreaming's inability, the unwillingness to dream, or the dream being grief. The one word will not, writing the longing to the extreme: even the dream, the only refuge, taken away. Su Shi here using the dream-which-will-not-come against the dream-meeting-her common place, the solitude the deeper. One loom with Li Bai's lone lamp's dimness and the longing's near-breakthrough, and yet the language simpler. This line is the first stanza's unseen-dweller aftermath, the poet alone facing the long night's first direct portrait, the feeling wholly gathered from the outer scene to the single self, and storing the emotional accumulation for the close's tears-which-will-not-clear.
今夜残灯斜照处，荧荧，
Tonight where the dying lamp casts its slanting light, flickering,
今夜残灯斜斜地照着的地方，光影微弱闪烁。
Tonight, where the dying lamp slants its light, the glow flickers faint.
「荧荧」叠字独立成句，与上片的「亭亭」遥相呼应。一个写塔之明晰高耸，一个写灯之微弱摇曳，境遇之落差尽在其中——白日里是亭亭的塔俯视聚散，深夜里是荧荧的灯陪伴孤眠，物象由宏阔转为逼仄，情绪也由怅惘转为凄楚。「残灯斜照」是古诗词中经典的孤寂意象，灯将尽而光斜，正如夜将尽而人未眠；「荧荧」二字以光影的微弱闪烁，暗喻泪光的闪烁，物我之间光影交织，难分是灯是泪。这一句把时间推到「今夜」，空间收到一室之内，全词至此完全收束于词人一人的不眠之夜，也将前文积攒的离愁逼到了必须喷薄而出的临界点。
The repeated word flickering a line of its own, echoing the first stanza's standing tall. One writing the tower's clear loftiness, one the lamp's faint swaying, the fate's fall all within — the daytime the standing-tall tower overlooking the meeting and parting, the deep night the flickering lamp keeping the lone sleeper, the object from the broad to the cramped, the mood from the wistful to the wretched. The dying lamp's slanted light the classic solitude image in classical poetry, the lamp nearly spent and the light slanting, as the night nearly spent and the man not asleep; the two words flickering, through the light's faint flicker, secretly figuring the tear light's flicker, the thing-and-self's light interwoven, hard to tell lamp or tear. This line pushing the time to tonight, the space gathered within the one room, the whole ci here wholly gathered in the poet's one sleepless night, and pressing the stored farewell grief to the critical point of the must-burst.
秋雨晴时泪不晴。
autumn rain may clear, but my tears will not.
秋雨总有放晴的时候，我的眼泪却没有停的时候。
When the autumn rain clears, my tears will not.
以「晴」字同时管住雨与泪，是全词最精彩的一笔，也是宋词炼字的名例。雨为自然，可晴；泪为人心，难晴。七个字里，天意与人情各行其道，而人情终究更苦。前人写离愁，多直说「泪湿衣襟」「泣下沾襟」，苏轼却别出心裁，拉来「秋雨」作陪，以雨之「晴」反衬泪之「不晴」——自然尚有放晴之时，而我的悲伤却没有停歇之日。这种以天象之可变衬人心之不可逆的写法，既新颖又沉痛。「晴」字两用，字面重复而意蕴层深，是「重字见巧」的极高境界。此句一出，遂成汉语表达「悲不自胜」的经典句式，其影响远及后世戏曲小说之离情描写，足见东坡点铁成金的语言功力。
The word clear ruling both rain and tears, the ci's most wonderful stroke, and the famous example of Song ci word-craft. The rain the natural, can clear; the tears the human, hard to clear. Seven characters, the heaven's will and the human feeling each going their own way, and the human feeling after all the bitterer. The old writers of farewell grief mostly direct, tears wetting the robe, and Su Shi's originality, pulling the autumn rain as companion, setting the rain's clear against the tears' not-clearing — nature still has the clearing hour, and my grief has no stopping day. This way of writing the heaven's changeable against the heart's unchangeable, at once novel and grief-stricken. The word clear used twice, the surface repeated and the meaning layered, the highest realm of the repeated-word cleverness. This line once out, hence becoming the Chinese classic sentence for grief beyond self-control, its influence reaching the later drama and fiction's parting description, showing Su Shi's language power of turning iron into gold.
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'Jiangchengzi' mourns the wife, writing 'in the deep night a dream suddenly returns home'; this song sees off a friend, writing 'one pillow, the first cold, no dream comes.' One can enter dreams and thus hurts more; one cannot dream and thus suffers more—comparable as the two uses of 'dream' in Su Shi's writing.
《江城子》悼亡，写「夜来幽梦忽还乡」，是死别之痛中尚能有梦的慰藉；此词送友，写「一枕初寒梦不成」，是生离之苦中连梦都被剥夺的凄凉。一能入梦而更痛，一不能成梦而更苦，可比较苏轼笔下「梦」的两种用法：在悼亡词中，梦是重逢的幻境，梦醒后的空更显残忍；在送别词中，无梦是长夜的实在，清醒着的思念更显无解。两词皆以「梦」为情感枢纽，一正一反，共同构成苏轼词中「梦」意象的丰富层次，也见出他无论写死别生离，都能以最私己的细节抵达最普遍的共情，足见其婉约之作亦具震撼人心的力量。
雨霖铃·寒蝉凄切 Yulinling: The Cicada's Chilling Cry 柳永 · 同为送别名词 Both famous farewell lyricsLiu Yong unfolds layers deep, imagining after parting with 'the willow bank, the dawn wind, the waning moon'; Su Shi is spare and reserved, closing the present with 'autumn rain may clear but my tears will not.' Both write parting feeling, one expansive one restrained—showing the two modes of the graceful ci.
柳永《雨霖铃》铺叙层深，以「杨柳岸晓风残月」悬想别后；苏轼此词简净含蓄，以「秋雨晴时泪不晴」收束当下。同写离情而一放一敛，正见婉约词的两种路数：柳词以繁密意象堆叠出一幅可感的别后画卷，苏词以一两处点睛（塔之亭亭、泪之不晴）便写尽深情。柳尚铺陈，苏尚提炼；柳如工笔长卷，苏如写意小品。将两词对读，可见北宋送别词由晚唐五代的绮靡，经柳永铺叙、再经苏轼提纯，最终在苏手中小令亦能含蓄深远，标志着宋词抒情方式的成熟与分化，也见出苏柳两种美学范式的对照。