宋 Song · 词 Ci lyric
女冠子
Nüguanzi (To the Tune 'Maiden's Cap')
蕙花香也。
雪晴池馆如画。
春风飞到，宝钗楼上，一片笙箫，琉璃光射。
而今灯漫挂。
不是暗尘明月，那时元夜。
况年来、心懒意怯，羞与蛾儿争要。
江城人悄初更打。
问繁华谁解，再向天公借。
剔残红灺。
但梦里隐隐，钿车罗帕。
吴笺银粉砑。
待把旧家风景，写成闲话。
笑绿鬟邻女，倚窗犹唱，夕阳西下。
Snow has cleared; pools and pavilions like a painted scroll.
The spring breeze flies up to Bao-chai Tower:
a burst of sheng and xiao flutes,
glass lanterns flashing their light.
Now the lanterns hang carelessly,
for this is no longer the dust-dimmed moon of that old Lantern Festival night.
Besides, these past years my heart is lazy, my spirit timid —
I am ashamed to vie with the girls in their moth ornaments.
In the river town all voices are hushed; the first watch is struck.
I ask: who can understand this glory —
who could borrow it back from Heaven once more?
I trim the guttering red wick.
Only in dreams, dimly,
do the jeweled carriages and silk kerchiefs pass.
On Wu paper rubbed with silver powder
I mean to write the old home's scenery into idle talk.
I smile at the black-haired girl next door,
leaning on the window, still singing
'The setting sun sinks in the west.'
Meaning
The poem contrasts the Lantern Festival of the lost Song with its gray present. Memory returns in radiance — snow cleared, pavilions like a painting, flutes at Bao-chai Tower, glass lanterns blazing — but now the lanterns hang carelessly, the heart is too timid to join the girls' rivalry, and the town is silent at the first watch. Asking whether anyone can borrow back the vanished glory from Heaven, the poet trims the guttering wick, dreams of jeweled carriages, and resolves to write the old home's scenery into 'idle talk' — until the neighbor girl's old song at the window turns his sorrow into a smile that is really grief.
蕙草的香气飘来。雪晴之后，池馆如画。春风飞到宝钗楼上，一片笙箫之声，琉璃灯光四射。而如今，灯只是漫不经心地挂着。已不是那暗尘明月、车马如流的旧日元夜了。何况这些年来，心懒意怯，羞于与那些头戴蛾儿的女子争胜。江城人声悄然，初更已打。问这繁华，有谁能解，再向天公借来呢。剔尽残红的烛灺。只在梦里隐隐见到，那钿车罗帕的旧景。吴笺用银粉砑光。待要把旧家的风景，写成闲话。可笑那绿鬓的邻家少女，倚着窗儿，还在唱着「夕阳西下」。
Appreciation
[Plain Paraphrase] Orchid fragrance and cleared snow open a scene like painting, and memory flashes back to the old Lantern Festival — spring breeze, flutes, glass lanterns blazing over Bao-chai Tower. But 'now the lanterns hang carelessly': this is not the moon-and-dust of that night. Years have made him lazy and timid, ashamed to vie with the ornamented girls; the town is hushed at the first watch. Who can borrow back the glory from Heaven? He trims the red wick, dreams of jeweled carriages, and plans to write the old home's scenery into idle talk — then hears the black-haired neighbor girl at the window still singing the old song of the setting sun. [Structure] The word 'now' (er jin) is the poem's hinge: everything before it is memory, everything after is aftermath. [Imagery] 'Lanterns hanging carelessly' measures a dynasty's fall by a single lamp; the closing smile is the poem's deepest cut — the girl sings on, unknowing, and every note is an elegy for the lost country.
【白话串讲】 蒋捷写《女冠子》：“蕙花香也。雪晴池馆如画”——“春风飞到，宝钗楼上，一片笙箫，琉璃光射”——“而今灯漫挂。不是暗尘明月，那时元夜”——“江城人悄初更打。问繁华谁解”——他写元夜——那时元夜。 【意象与手法】 上阕以“蕙花香也。雪晴池馆如画”写眼前之景，以“而今灯漫挂。不是暗尘明月，那时元夜”点出今昔之变；下阕以“问繁华谁解，再向天公借”写繁华难再之叹，以“待把旧家风景，写成闲话”写以文字追忆旧事；终以“笑绿鬟邻女，倚窗犹唱，夕阳西下”的邻女无知作结。清丽而含悲。 【情感与主旨】 蒋捷写元夕之作，写元夕灯夜的今昔之感，寄寓亡国之痛，以邻女不知亡国之痛犹唱旧曲作结，是蒋捷词中今昔之感的典型。 【名句点睛】 常考“而今灯漫挂。不是暗尘明月，那时元夜”以今昔对照写元夜之变；“笑绿鬟邻女，倚窗犹唱，夕阳西下”以邻女犹唱写亡国之痛。
Background
Jiang Jie (c. 1245–c. 1305), courtesy name Shengyu and sobriquet Zhushan, came from Yangxian (modern Yixing, Jiangsu). He passed the jinshi examination around 1274, just as the Song dynasty collapsed; refusing office under the Yuan, he lived in reclusion and is counted with Zhou Mi, Wang Yisun, and Zhang Yan as the four great ci masters of the late Song. This Lantern Festival poem belongs to his 'then-and-now' vein, in which festival brightness becomes the gauge of dynastic loss, and the neighbor girl's unknowing song borrows the sorrow of the old line about the singer by the river who knows nothing of a fallen state's regret.
此词为宋末元初词人蒋捷的元夕之作。蒋捷（约1245—约1305），字胜欲，号竹山，阳羡（今江苏宜兴）人，宋末元初词人，与周密、王沂孙、张炎并称宋末四大词家。他于咸淳十年（1274）中进士，未几而宋亡，入元后隐居不仕，抱节而终，其词以清丽精工著称，长于写身世之感与故国之思。此词写元夕灯夜的今昔之感：上阕以「蕙花香也。雪晴池馆如画」，写眼前元夕之景——雪晴池馆，蕙草飘香，本是一片如画的好景；「春风飞到，宝钗楼上，一片笙箫，琉璃光射」，写灯市之繁华——宝钗楼上，笙箫一片，琉璃灯光四射，正是旧日元夕的盛况；「而今灯漫挂。不是暗尘明月，那时元夜」，以「而今」转折，写如今灯市之萧条——灯只是漫不经心地挂着，已不是那「暗尘明月」的旧日元夜了。下阕「江城人悄初更打」，写江城人声悄然、初更已打，一片冷清；「问繁华谁解，再向天公借」，写繁华难再之叹——那旧日的繁华，有谁能解，再向天公借来呢；「剔残红灺。但梦里隐隐，钿车罗帕」，写剔尽残烛，只在梦中隐隐见到那钿车罗帕的旧景；「吴笺银粉砑。待把旧家风景，写成闲话」，写以吴笺银粉，把旧家风景写成闲话，正是以文字追忆故国；「笑绿鬟邻女，倚窗犹唱，夕阳西下」，以邻家少女不知亡国之痛、犹唱旧曲，反衬词人的故国之思。全词以元夕为背景，以今昔为线索，把眼前灯市的萧条与旧日灯市的繁华对照，寄寓亡国之痛，是蒋捷词中今昔之感最深的篇章之一。
Art
The lyric's masterstroke is contrast layered on contrast. The upper stanza opens with the brightest possible Lantern imagery — orchid scent, cleared snow, painted pavilions, spring breeze, flutes, glass lanterns — all belonging to memory; then 'now the lanterns hang carelessly' snaps the scene, and 'this is not the dust-dimmed moon of that old night' (an echo of Su Weidao's Lantern poem) pronounces the change absolute. The lower stanza turns inward: the guttering wick, the first watch struck in a silent town, the dream of jeweled carriages, silver-rubbed Wu paper for writing 'idle talk' — grief handled with the lightest of tools. The ending is a theatrical stroke: the black-haired neighbor girl leans on the window still singing of the setting sun, and the poet's smile — smiling at her innocence, smiling at his own excess of feeling — carries the sorrow of a fallen state into a single syllable.
此词艺术上以「今昔对照」与「以乐景写哀」为特色，在元夕灯影中写尽故国之思。上阕以「蕙花香也。雪晴池馆如画」起笔，写眼前元夕的如画之景，是一个「乐景」的开端；「春风飞到，宝钗楼上，一片笙箫，琉璃光射」，进一步铺写灯市的繁华——宝钗楼、笙箫、琉璃，皆是旧日元夕的盛景，词人笔下的繁丽，正是「旧家」的繁华记忆。然而「而今灯漫挂」，一「而今」急转，写如今的萧条——灯只是漫不经心地挂着，全无昔日的讲究与热闹；「不是暗尘明月，那时元夜」，以「不是」直接点破今昔之变——已不是那「暗尘明月」的旧日元夜了。「暗尘明月」，暗用苏味道《正月十五夜》「暗尘随马去，明月逐人来」之句，正是旧日元夜车马如流、灯火通明的写照，如今「不是」了。下阕「江城人悄初更打」，写人声悄然、初更已打的冷清，与上阕的笙箫繁华形成鲜明的对照；「问繁华谁解，再向天公借」，以设问写繁华难再之叹——那旧日的繁华，有谁能解，再向天公借来呢；「剔残红灺。但梦里隐隐，钿车罗帕」，以剔残烛灺、梦中钿车罗帕写旧景之不可复见，只能在梦中追寻；「吴笺银粉砑。待把旧家风景，写成闲话」，写以吴笺银粉把旧家风景写成闲话，正是以文字追忆故国的自我安顿；「笑绿鬟邻女，倚窗犹唱，夕阳西下」，以邻女犹唱旧曲反衬词人的故国之思，邻女不知亡国之痛，犹在唱着旧曲，而词人听来，字字都是故国的挽歌。全词以今昔对照为骨，以乐景写哀为法，把元夕灯影中的故国之思写得既含蓄又深挚，是蒋捷词「以清丽写沉痛」的典型。
Allusions
Several echoes run deep. 'Dust-dimmed moon' quietly borrows Su Weidao's 'Lantern Night' — 'hidden dust follows the horses away, the moon comes upon men' — the classic image of a Lantern Festival at its height. 'Moth ornaments' echoes Xin Qiji's famous Lantern lyric ('moth ornaments, snow-willow and golden threads'), the girls' festival headdress. 'Bao-chai Tower' is a celebrated old tavern name (Lu You wrote of it), here marking the festival's drinking towers. 'The setting sun sinks in the west' closes with the tune of the lost dynasty: a song the young girl sings without knowing it is her country's elegy — the poem's clearest debt to the 'singer by the river' sorrow of Du Mu's 'Moorings on the Qinhuai' and to the late-Song fashion of writing the fallen state into festival nights.
此词用典于关键处见深情。「暗尘明月」，暗用苏味道《正月十五夜》「暗尘随马去，明月逐人来」之句，写旧日元夜车马扬尘、明月随人的盛况，是元宵灯市的经典写照；「那时元夜」，以「那时」指故国未亡时的元夜，今昔对照，暗含故国之思。「宝钗楼」，为旧时酒楼名，陆游有「宝钗楼外织千花」之句，此词以「宝钗楼上，一片笙箫」写元夜酒楼笙箫的繁华。「琉璃光射」，写琉璃灯盏的光芒四射，正是元宵灯市的实景。「蛾儿」，指元宵节妇女头戴的蛾儿（彩蝶）饰物，辛弃疾《青玉案》有「蛾儿雪柳黄金缕」，写元夕女子的妆饰，此词「羞与蛾儿争要」，以「羞与」写自己心懒意怯、不复旧时兴致。「钿车罗帕」，写旧日元夜女子乘钿车、遗罗帕的盛景，是元夕欢会的记忆。「夕阳西下」，暗用白居易《长恨歌》「夕阳西下几时回」之意境，或指南宋末年流行的旧曲，邻女犹唱「夕阳西下」，正是「后庭花」式的亡国之音——犹唱旧曲而不知国已亡，正是词人最深的悲凉。这些典故，或写元夜之盛、或写蛾儿之饰、或写钿车罗帕、或写夕阳旧曲，皆围绕元夕今昔这一核心，织成一张清丽而含悲的情网，正是蒋捷词「用事下语精严」的特点。
Commentary
Among Jiang Jie's then-and-now poems this is the most quietly devastating. Critics single out the ending — the poet's 'smile' at the neighbor girl still singing the old song — as the joint of the whole piece: he laughs at her innocence and at his own incapacity to forget, and the laugh is where the fallen state's pain lives. That smile has been compared, ever since, to Du Mu's 'the singer knows not the fallen state's regret,' yet Jiang Jie's version is quieter and more modern: no accusation, only a man hearing his country's elegy hummed through a window by a girl with black hair. The poem was preserved in Zhushan Ci and remains a touchstone of the mode that writes the fallen state through festivals.
读此词，最令人低回的是「笑绿鬟邻女，倚窗犹唱，夕阳西下」这一句所写出的「隔」。词人正满怀亡国之痛，把「旧家风景」写成闲话，以文字追忆故国；而那绿鬓的邻家少女，却不知亡国之痛，犹自倚着窗儿，唱着旧曲。一个「笑」字，是全词的关节——词人「笑」邻女的无知，也在「笑」自己的多情：邻女还唱着「夕阳西下」，不知这夕阳所照的，已不是故国的江山；而词人听来，那旧曲的每一个字，都是故国的挽歌。这一「笑」，笑出了「商女不知亡国恨，隔江犹唱后庭花」的千古悲凉——亡国的是词人的故国，而邻女犹在唱着旧日的歌，仿佛一切都不曾发生。这「笑」与「唱」的对照，正是全词最深的悲哀：不是邻女的无知可笑，而是词人的清醒可悲——唯有他记得那「暗尘明月」的旧日元夜，唯有他把「旧家风景」写成闲话，在无人知晓的角落里，独自凭吊故国。蒋捷以「笑」字写这深沉的悲哀，正见其「以清丽写沉痛」的功力，也见其遗民身份下，那份「众人皆醉我独醒」的孤独。
Prosody
Line by line
不是暗尘明月，那时元夜。
This is no longer the dust-dimmed moon of that old Lantern Festival night.
已不是那暗尘随马、明月逐人的旧日元夜了。
It is no longer that old Lantern Night of the dust following the horses and the moon following the men.
这一句是全词今昔之变的关键，也是故国之思的枢纽。「暗尘明月」，暗用苏味道《正月十五夜》「暗尘随马去，明月逐人来」之句，写旧日元夜车马扬尘、明月随人的盛况——那是故国未亡时元宵灯市的繁华；「不是……那时元夜」，以「不是」直接点破今昔之变——已不是那「暗尘明月」的旧日元夜了。前文「而今灯漫挂」，写如今灯市之萧条；此句以「不是」进一步写今昔之别：不是灯不够亮，不是月不够明，而是那「暗尘明月」的时代已经过去了——故国已亡，元夜还是元夜，而「那时」的元夜，永不再来。以「不是」写今昔，比「不如」「不及」更见决绝：不是程度之差，而是本质之别，正是亡国之后「物是人非」的沉痛。此句是理解全词的钥匙。
This line is the ci's key of the present-and-past change, and the homeland thought's hinge. The dark dust and bright moon secretly borrows Su Weidao's The Fifteenth Night of the First Month, the dark dust goes with the horses, the bright moon follows the men, writing the old Lantern Night's dust-raising carriages and the moon-following men's splendor — that is the fallen-old-country time's lantern market's prosperity; it is no longer that old Lantern Night uses the not to point out the present-past change at once — no longer that dark-dust-bright-moon old Lantern Night. The above's now the lanterns hung at random writes the present lantern market's bleakness; this line uses the not to write the present-past distinction further: not the lantern's dimness, not the moon's dimness, but that dark-dust-bright-moon age already past — the old country fallen, the Lantern Night still the Lantern Night, and that-time's Lantern Night, never to return. Writing the present-past through the not, the more decisive than the not-as-good-as and the below, the degree difference, but the essential difference, precisely the post-perishing thing-is-there-and-the-man-is-not grief. This line is the key to understanding the whole ci.
问繁华谁解，再向天公借。
I ask: who can understand this glory — who could borrow it back from Heaven once more?
问这旧日的繁华，有谁能解，再向天公借来呢。
I ask of that old splendor, who can understand it, and borrow it once more from the Lord of Heaven?
这一句写繁华难再之叹，是此词由今昔之变转入故国之思的深化。「问繁华谁解」，写那旧日的繁华，有谁能解其中之意——不是无人识繁华，而是无人懂得繁华消逝后的悲凉；「再向天公借」，写再向天公借来那繁华——明知不可得，却仍忍不住一问，正是「痴语」之痴：繁华已随故国而去，天公岂能借来？这一「借」字，写尽了词人对旧日繁华的无限眷恋与无可奈何。以「问」写叹，以「借」写痴，正见其故国之思的深挚——那旧日元夜的繁华，是故国承平的象征，繁华不可复借，正如故国不可复还。此句以痴语写哀情，正是蒋捷词「以清丽写沉痛」的体现，也是此词情感最深挚的句子之一。
This line writes the splendor's non-return sigh, this ci's deepening from the present-past change to the homeland thought. I ask of that old splendor, who can understand it, and borrow it once more from the Lord of Heaven? writes that old splendor, who can understand its meaning — not the no one's recognizing the splendor, but the no one's knowing the grief after the splendor's passing; borrow it once more from the Lord of Heaven writes the wishing to borrow that splendor from heaven again — knowing it cannot be had, and yet the question cannot be helped, precisely the crazed-words craziness: the splendor gone with the old country, can the Lord of Heaven lend it? This one word borrow, exhausting the poet's infinite longing for the old splendor and the helplessness. Writing the sigh through the question, the craziness through the borrow, precisely showing his homeland thought's depth — that old Lantern Night's splendor, the old country's peace symbol, the splendor not borrowable again, as the old country not returnable. This line writing grief through the crazed words, precisely Jiang Jie's clear-and-beautiful writing the deep grief's showing, and this ci's deepest feeling line.
待把旧家风景，写成闲话。
I mean to write the old home's scenery into idle talk.
待要用银粉砑光的吴笺，把旧家的风景，写成闲话。
I shall take the old home's sights and write them into idle tales.
这一句写以文字追忆故国，是此词自我安顿的方式，也是遗民以文字存亡国之思的写照。「吴笺银粉砑」，写吴地笺纸以银粉砑光，是上好的笺纸——以最精致的笺纸，写最沉重的心事，正见其郑重；「待把旧家风景，写成闲话」，写要把旧家的风景写成闲话——「旧家」即故国，旧家风景即故国未亡时的光景，写成「闲话」，看似轻描淡写，实则字字千钧：那旧家的风景，是再也回不去的故国，只能以文字存之，写成「闲话」，留与后人。以「闲话」写故国，正是「举重若轻」的笔法——不是不能写沉痛，而是把沉痛写成了闲话，正见其痛之深、之无处安放。此句以写作为自我安顿，把亡国之痛转化为文字的凭吊，是遗民词人特有的自处之道，也是此词最深沉的句子之一。
This line writes the homeland's memorial through writing, this ci's self-settlement way, and the leftover scholar's keeping the perishing thought through writing portrait. The Wu paper and silver powder's burnishing writes the Wu-region paper's silver-powder burnishing, the finest paper — with the finest paper, writing the heaviest heart, precisely showing the solemnity; I shall take the old home's sights and write them into idle tales writes the wishing to write the old home's sights into idle tales — the old home means the old country, the old home's sights the pre-perishing scenes, written into idle tales, seeming the light touch, and yet every word the weight of a thousand jun: that old home's sights, the old country never returnable, only keepable through writing, written into idle tales, left for the later generations. Writing the old country through idle tales, precisely the weight-lifted-with-ease brush — not the inability to write the grief, but the grief written into idle tales, precisely showing the grief's depth and nowhere-to-place. This line using writing as the self-settlement, turning the perishing grief into the writing's mourning, the leftover ci poet's self-way, and this ci's deepest line.
Study
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Xin Qiji's 'the east wind lets fly a thousand trees of flowers, and blows down the stars like rain' crowds the Lantern night with a thousand trees and a rain of stars until, 'searching him a thousand times in the crowd,' he finds the one figure beyond the fading lights. Jiang Jie's 'the spring breeze flies up to Bao-chai Tower, a burst of flutes, glass lanterns flashing their light' matches that splendor — then answers it with 'now the lanterns hang carelessly.' One writes the Lantern night of a prosperous age, the other the Lantern night of a fallen state: read together, they show the same festival in two worlds.
辛弃疾《青玉案·元夕》「东风夜放花千树，更吹落、星如雨」，写元夕灯市的花千树、星如雨、玉壶光转的盛景，在「众里寻他千百度」后，「蓦然回首，那人却在，灯火阑珊处」，是元夕词的千古绝唱；蒋捷此词「春风飞到，宝钗楼上，一片笙箫，琉璃光射」，同样写元夕灯市的繁华，却以「而今灯漫挂。不是暗尘明月，那时元夜」写灯市的凋零。一写盛世元夕的繁华，一写亡国后元夕的萧条；辛词是承平的狂欢，蒋词是亡国的凭吊。并读两词，可见「元夕」这一母题在两宋的演变，也可见同一灯市，在盛世与亡国之时的天壤之别。
生查子·元夕 Shengzhazi: Lantern Festival Night 欧阳修（一说朱淑真） · 同为元夕今昔之作，一写爱情之变一写家国之变，元夕怀旧传统一脉相承 Both are then-and-now Lantern lyrics — one a love's change, one a dynasty's changeOuyang Xiu's 'last year at the Lantern hour, the flower market's lights were bright as day... this year at the Lantern hour, moon and lights are the same — gone is last year's person, tears wet the spring sleeves' is the classic then-and-now of romance. Jiang Jie's 'now the lanterns hang carelessly; this is not the dust-dimmed moon of that old night' repeats the same contrast, but what has changed is not a lover but a country. Read together, the two trace the theme's evolution from Northern Song romance to late-Song elegy.
欧阳修（一说朱淑真）《生查子·元夕》「去年元夜时，花市灯如昼。月上柳梢头，人约黄昏后」，写去年元夜与今年元夜的对照，「今年元夜时，月与灯依旧。不见去年人，泪湿春衫袖」，是元夕今昔之感的经典；蒋捷此词「而今灯漫挂。不是暗尘明月，那时元夜」，同样写元夕的今昔对照。一写爱情的今昔之变，一写家国的今昔之变；欧阳修之叹是「不见去年人」，蒋捷之叹是「不是那时元夜」。并读两词，可见「元夕今昔」这一母题从北宋到宋末的演变，也可见蒋捷将个人的元夕之叹，升华为亡国的元夕之痛。
虞美人·听雨 Yumeiren: Listening to the Rain 蒋捷 · 同出蒋捷之手，一写听雨的今昔一写元夕的今昔，遗民今昔之感互为映照 Same poet — one a lifetime in rain, one a dynasty at Lantern night'Listening to the rain in my youth, upstairs at song, red candles dim the bed-curtains' — Jiang Jie's most famous then-and-now lyric runs a whole life through rain, from song tower to traveler's boat to temple, ending 'let the raindrops drip to dawn on the steps.' This poem runs a dynasty through one Lantern night — 'this is not the dust-dimmed moon of that old night' — ending with the neighbor girl's song. One event per lifetime, one night per dynasty: together they show Jiang Jie's signature art of compressing a life into a single recurring thing.
蒋捷《虞美人·听雨》「少年听雨歌楼上，红烛昏罗帐。壮年听雨客舟中，江阔云低断雁叫西风。而今听雨僧庐下，鬓已星星也」，以听雨为线索写尽一生的今昔之感，是蒋捷最著名的今昔之作；此词写元夕灯市的今昔，「不是暗尘明月，那时元夜」，同样是今昔之感。一以听雨写一生，一以元夕写一世；听雨之词是「一任阶前点滴到天明」的苍凉，元夕之词是「笑绿鬟邻女，倚窗犹唱」的含悲。并读两作，可见蒋捷「以一事写一生」的惯技，也可见其作为遗民，如何在一生的今昔之感中，沉淀下亡国的记忆。