All poems

唐 Tang · 诗 Poem

听蜀僧濬弹琴

Listening to Monk Jun of Shu Play the Qin

李白

Li Bai

音乐Theme 山水Landscape 禅意Theme 五言古诗poetry

蜀僧抱绿绮，西下峨眉峰。
为我一挥手，如听万壑松。
客心洗流水，余响入霜钟。
不觉碧山暮，秋云暗几重。

Listen

Meaning

A poem celebrating the transcendent power of a monk's qin playing, which cleanses the listener's heart like flowing water and leaves its echoes merging with the frosty bell.

蜀地僧人怀抱着名琴绿绮，从西边的峨眉峰走下来。为我轻轻一挥手弹奏起来，仿佛听见万山沟壑间松涛阵阵。听者的心像被流水洗涤，袅袅余音融入霜天钟声。不知不觉碧山已染暮色，秋云层层遮暗了好几重。

Appreciation

Li Bai's 'Listening to Monk Jun of Shu Play the Qin' is a short lyric that captures a listening experience rather than describing an instrument. The monk arrives from Mount Emei bearing a famed green qin (lüqi), and with a single flourish of the hand the poet 'hears ten thousand ravines of pine' — the music conveyed entirely through its effect on landscape and listener. The middle couplet deepens this synesthetic art: the guest's heart is 'washed by flowing water,' and the lingering sound merges into the frosty bell of dusk, so that sound, mind, and season become one. The closing lines withdraw to pure atmosphere — 'unaware, the green hills turn to evening; how many folds of autumn cloud have darkened' — letting the spell of the music reveal itself through the listener's lost sense of time. Li Bai never writes the word 'wonderful,' yet wonder pervades. Through metaphor, synesthesia, and oblique, atmospheric suggestion, the poem fuses musical beauty, mountain-and-water delight, and a leisurely heart, embodying the transcendent, self-forgetting spirit of High-Tang qin poetry and a freer, more ethereal side of Li Bai himself.

【白话串讲】 “蜀僧抱绿绮，西下峨眉峰”——李白听蜀僧弹琴。“为我一挥手，如听万壑松”——他一挥手，像万壑松涛。“客心洗流水，余响入霜钟”——琴声洗净了他的心。“不觉碧山暮，秋云暗几重”——他听得忘了时间，天都黑了。【意象与手法】开篇点明弹琴者来历，“绿绮”暗喻僧人之琴艺高超；中间两联正面描摹琴声，“为我一挥手，如听万壑松”以万壑松风喻琴声气势，“客心洗流水，余响入霜钟”以实写虚极尽通感之妙；结尾“不觉碧山暮，秋云暗几重”以侧面烘托写听琴入神。善用比喻与侧面烘托，不着一妙字而妙处自见。【情感与主旨】以听琴为契机，将音乐之美、山水之趣与心境之闲融为一体，体现李白飘逸洒脱的一面，也展现盛唐文人听琴诗中物我两忘的高远情怀。【名句点睛】常考“为我一挥手，如听万壑松”以万壑松写琴声气势；“不觉碧山暮，秋云暗几重”以暮色写听琴入神。

Background

Written when Li Bai met a monk from Shu (Sichuan) named Jun who was a skilled qin player. The poem captures a listening experience rather than describing the instrument itself.

李白《听蜀僧濬弹琴》约作于唐玄宗天宝年间诗人游历蜀地之时。蜀僧濬是当时一位善弹琴的高僧，与李白多有往还，李白以听琴为契机，写下这首充满禅意与仙气的五言古诗。要理解此诗，先要明白李白笔下的「蜀僧」并非普通的方外之人，而是兼具高艺与高洁的象征：怀抱绿绮，来自峨眉，本身就是一方灵秀的化身。盛唐文人听琴，往往不只是听曲，更是听一种超脱尘嚣的境界，琴声在这里是通往「道」的媒介。此诗写于李白壮岁漫游之际，彼时他尚未陷入晚年的忧戚，心境尚属开阔洒脱，故诗中无一点尘俗气，满纸烟霞。值得注意的是，李白一生写过数首听琴诗，如《月夜听卢子顺弹琴》《听蜀僧濬弹琴》皆以自然之境写音乐之妙，这一组诗共同构成盛唐「以山水写琴心」的审美范式。此诗虽短，却把一次寻常的听琴写得如仙似禅，足见李白捕捉意境的能力。

Art

Uses natural imagery (pines, ravines, flowing water, frosty bell) to convey sound indirectly — the music is never literally described but evoked through its effect on the listener and the landscape.

此诗艺术上的最大聪明，在于通篇不写一个「妙」字，而妙处自见，全靠比喻与侧面烘托完成对琴声的塑造。首联「蜀僧抱绿绮，西下峨眉峰」先点明弹者来历，绿绮乃司马相如名琴，暗喻僧人之琴艺世罕其俦；峨眉峰则给僧人镀上一层蜀地仙山的灵气，还未弹已先有其境。颔联「为我一挥手，如听万壑松」正面写琴声，却不写琴声如何婉转，而写它如万壑松风，以视觉化的松涛写听觉，是典型的通感，且「万壑」二字见出气势之磅礴，绝非纤巧之音。颈联「客心洗流水，余响入霜钟」更深一层：流水既指琴曲（伯牙子期高山流水之典），又写听者之心被洗涤；余响与霜天钟声相融，以钟之清远衬琴之余韵，实写虚，虚写实。尾联「不觉碧山暮，秋云暗几重」全从听者落笔，写因入神而不觉时光流转、暮色四合，侧面烘托琴声感染力之强，更以景结情，留白无尽。全诗清丽自然，空灵澄澈，是李白「清水出芙蓉」美学的又一印证。

Allusions

绿绮 (green-qi) — a famous ancient zither owned by Sima Xiangru, here a metonym for a fine qin. 流水 (Flowing Water) — echoes the classical qin piece associated with Bo Ya and Zhong Ziqi's friendship of kindred ears.

诗中用典贵在暗用而不滞。首句「绿绮」用司马相如之琴事，相如《玉台新咏》载其琴名绿绮，唐人多以绿绮代指名琴，此典既显僧人之琴为珍品，又暗伏文采风流。「万壑松」虽是即目之喻，却与嵇康《琴赋》及历来以松风写琴的传统一脉相通，松风之清越正合隐逸之高洁。「流水」明用伯牙子期「高山流水」之典，既写琴曲之名，更写知音相得——李白听僧弹琴，正以子期自况，僧则以伯牙自许。「霜钟」指秋日佛寺之钟，既点时节，又带禅意，钟声与琴音同属清远之物，余响入钟，是声与声的相和，也是尘与禅的交接。这些典故都不是掉书袋，而是与写景抒情浑融一体，用得极活。还可补充一点，西下峨眉峰暗含蜀地仙山的传统，峨眉在道教传说中为仙灵所居，僧自峨眉来，便自带一方灵秀，与绿绮之名琴相映，人、琴、山三位一体，先声已立超尘之境。而客心洗流水之流水，除伯牙子期之典外，亦遥接论语逝者如斯夫的川上之叹，听琴之水既是知音之喻，也是时光与生命流转的暗喻，听者之心被洗，亦如逝水不舍昼夜般获得一种清新的更新。至于霜钟，佛寺秋钟在唐人笔下本就象征警醒与寂灭，李白以之收束余响，使琴声的余与钟声的空彼此衬托，音乐至此已由娱耳升为启心。全诗的用典看似零散，实则层层递进：由琴之贵、山之灵，到知音之契、心境之洗，终归于禅寺秋钟的空远，一条由艺入道的小径，正藏在典故的明暗转折之间。

Commentary

The poem shifts from the player (lines 1–2) to the listener's inner transformation (lines 3–4), ending with the quiet dissolution of music into dusk and cloud — a hallmark of Li Bai's ability to fuse sound, nature, and emotion.

此诗历来为论琴诗者所重，明人胡应麟推李白绝句、古诗皆「天然去雕饰」，此诗正是标本。它与韩愈《听颖师弹琴》、白居易《琵琶行》并列为唐人写音乐的三大名篇，而路数各异：韩诗以「昵昵儿女语，灯火夜微茫」起，极写琴声之变化，比喻奇丽而用笔繁密；白诗以长篇叙事写琵琶女的身世，音乐只是引线；李诗则最省，二十字写尽听琴之境，不铺陈、不叙事，只取山水与心境。三家并读，可见唐人写乐的三种境界。近人论李白，多注意其乐府与歌行，其实这类小诗更能见其「以少总多」的本领。此诗在李白现存听琴诗中以写景入乐、以山月收束，与其《月夜听卢子顺弹琴》同一机杼，共同构成以自然之境写音乐之美的系列，对后世如韩愈听颖师弹琴、白居易琵琶行以声写声、以景衬乐的手法亦有先导意义。其价值不仅在音乐描写，更在把一次听琴升华为物我两忘的瞬间，历来为士人所爱。

Prosody

Form English explanation is being prepared.五言古诗（古体，不依近体平仄粘对，风神疏宕）

Rhyme English explanation is being prepared.此诗不依严格押韵，四句三换意象而不叶韵，纯以气脉贯串；若以古体论，峰、松、钟、重皆不强制同韵，正见古诗放任之体。

Tone pattern English explanation is being prepared.五言古诗本不拘平仄，此诗「蜀僧抱绿绮，西下峨眉峰」平仄相闲，「为我一挥手，如听万壑松」随语势走，不求粘对，故读来疏朗自然，与律诗之谨严异趣。

Reading note Five-character ancient-style poem (五言古诗), free from strict tonal regulation; even line length and a calm, spacious rhythm suit the meditative subject.李白写古诗，最忌被格律缚住。此诗若强依近体，必失其萧散。五言古体的好处正在可骈可散、平仄自便，使「挥手」「洗流水」这类口语化的妙句得以从容安放。声律上为内容让路，正是盛唐古诗的常态。全诗二十字，句式长短随意，气息清畅，恰如琴声之不经雕琢而自合天然，与诗中「清水出芙蓉」的审美完全一致。虽为五古不强制押韵，但峰、松、钟、重四字在诵读中自成一种悠远的回声：峰以平声起，松以平声应，钟以平声续，重以平声收，四处平声如四记清音，与琴韵的松风、霜钟天然相合，读来似有袅袅余音不绝于耳。句法则前二句叙事（抱绿绮、下峨眉），中二句写声（挥手、万壑松），后四句由心及境（洗流水、入霜钟、碧山暮、秋云重），由实入虚、由人入景，层次如听琴之起承转合，毫不紊乱。更值得注意的是，古诗之不粘对在此并非草率，而是有意放宽带格以容自然之趣——若强拘平仄，则挥手的潇洒、不觉的忘形必将减色。李白写古诗正如僧人弹琴，挥洒处见真趣，约束处见法度，看似无法而法自在其中。读此诗宜缓，缓则能觉字里行间那一缕随秋云散去的琴韵，正与盛唐五古风神萧散的声律理想同其呼吸。

Line by line

蜀僧抱绿绮，西下峨眉峰。

The Shu monk cradles his green-qi zither, descending the Emei peaks from the west.

蜀地僧人怀抱着名琴绿绮，从西边的峨眉峰走下来。

A Shu monk, holding the famous Green Qi qin, descends Mount Emei from the west.

起联如画。作者不急于写琴声，先写弹琴之人从何处来：抱绿绮，点出琴之名贵；西下峨眉峰，点出人之来路。绿绮与峨眉叠在一起，僧人尚未出手，已自带仙风道骨。这一联妙在「来历即境界」——弹者来自名山、怀抱名琴，听者尚未闻声，心中先有了一片清境。李白写人往往三言两语便立住风神，此联即是。更妙在抱与下两个动词的呼应：抱琴是静态的珍重，西下是动态的来路，一收一放之间，僧人的身份与气度全出，却不着一个褒贬字。读者尚未闻一声琴响，心中已先铺好一片峨眉雪色与绿绮清辉，这便是李白未成曲调先有情的起手式——以人来写乐，以来历写境界，比正面描摹琴声更高明。

The opening couplet is like a painting. The poet does not hurry to write the music; first he writes where the player comes from. Holding the Green Qi names the qin's renown - Green Qi was Sima Xiangru's legendary instrument. Descending Mount Emei from the west names the man's origin. Green Qi and Emei fold together: before the monk strikes a note, he carries the air of an immortal. The couplet's craft lies in origin itself being realm: player from a famous mountain, bearing a famous qin; before hearing a sound, the listener's heart is already prepared for purity. Li Bai often fixes a figure's spirit in a few words; this couplet is one. Even finer: the two verbs, holding and descending, echo each other - holding the qin is the stillness of treasuring; descending the west is the motion of coming. In the closing and opening, the monk's identity and bearing stand out, without one word of praise or blame. Before the first note, the reader's heart is already spread with Emei snow and Green Qi radiance - Li Bai's manner of making feeling before the tune: writing music through the man, writing realm through origin, more masterly than any frontal description of the qin.

为我一挥手，如听万壑松。

With a single sweep of his hand for me, it is as if I hear pines roaring through ten thousand ravines.

为我轻轻一挥手弹奏起来，仿佛听见万山沟壑间松涛阵阵。

For me he waves his hand once; I seem to hear ten thousand ravines of pines.

这一联由人及声。「挥手」二字极潇洒，写弹琴如挥麈谈玄，毫不费力，见出僧人之从容；「为我」二字又见出二人相知之雅，非泛泛奏技。下半句写听感：不写琴声如何，而写如万壑松风，以松涛之浩荡写琴音之磅礴，是听觉向视觉的挪移。万壑二字尤其要紧，它把方寸之琴声放大到千山之间，空间陡然开阔，琴声遂有了山川的气象。

This couplet moves from person to sound. Waves his hand once is utterly free: playing the qin like waving a fly-whisk in philosophical talk, effortless, showing the monk's composure. For me shows the easy understanding between two men, no mere exhibition of skill. The second half writes the hearing: not how the qin sounds, but like ten thousand ravines of pines - using the vast pine-soughing to write the qin's grandeur, a transfer from hearing to sight. Ten thousand ravines is crucial: it magnifies the qin from the space of a palm into a thousand mountains; space suddenly opens, and the music takes on the bearing of hills and streams.

客心洗流水，余响入霜钟。

My traveler's heart is washed clean by the flowing water; the lingering tone melts into the frosty bell.

听者的心像被流水洗涤，袅袅余音融入霜天钟声。

The guest's heart is washed by flowing water; the lingering note melts into frosty bells.

这一联写琴声的余波与听者的心境。「流水」双关：既指琴曲（高山流水），又指听者之心如被流水洗过，尘虑为之一清。「洗」字下得重，写琴声的净化之力。「余响入霜钟」更妙：琴已歇而韵未绝，那余音竟飘入霜天钟声之中，声与声相融，虚与实相接。霜钟点出秋日与禅寺，钟声清远，正配琴音之寂。这一联由听到心，由实到虚，把音乐写到「化」境。

This couplet writes the music's afterglow and the listener's mood. Flowing water is double: it names the qin piece High Mountains and Flowing Water, and means the listener's heart washed clean by running water, worldly thoughts cleared. Wash is placed heavily, writing the purifying power of the music. The lingering note melts into frosty bells is finer still: the qin has ceased, its resonance unspent; the aftertone drifts into the frosty sky's bells, sound merging with sound, the shadowed meeting the solid. Frosty bells fixes autumn and the Buddhist temple; the clear, distant bells match the qin's silence. The couplet moves from hearing to heart, from solid to shadowed, carrying music to the realm of transformation.

不觉碧山暮，秋云暗几重。

Unaware, the green hills have fallen into dusk; autumn clouds darken layer upon layer.

不知不觉碧山已染暮色，秋云层层遮暗了好几重。

Unaware, the blue mountains have grown dark with evening; autumn clouds have dimmed layer after layer.

结联不写琴，而写听琴之人忘形于时间。「不觉」二字是诗眼：听者入神之深，连暮色降临都未察觉，等回过神来，碧山已暗、秋云数重。这一笔全从侧面烘托，琴声之动人尽在不言中。更妙在结以景语，碧山、秋云既是实写天色，也是听者心境的投影——琴声过后，天地为之一暗一静，余韵留在云山深处。全诗至此悠然收住，不须再说琴好，而琴好自见。

The closing couplet writes not of the qin but of the listener lost to time. Unaware is the eye of the poem: the listener is rapt so deeply that he does not notice evening fall; when he comes to himself, the blue mountains have darkened, autumn clouds layered. The stroke works entirely from the side: the moving power of the qin is left unsaid. Finer still, the closing in scenery - blue mountains and autumn clouds are both the actual sky and the projection of the listener's mood: after the music, heaven and earth grow dark and still together, the aftertone lingering deep in cloud and mountain. The poem closes leisurely here; no need to say the qin is good - its goodness appears of itself.

Study

Word focus

绿绮 A key expression in the poem. Read it as an image, mood, or grammar point in context. 「绿绮」是司马相如的名琴，唐人诗文中常以之代指佳琴。李白此处用来写蜀僧所抱之琴，一举两得：既显琴之贵重，又暗用相如风流通雅的典故，使僧人之琴艺与文人传统相接。更巧的是，绿绮之「绿」与后文碧山、秋云之青暗相呼应，通篇笼罩在一片清绿的山色里，色彩的统一也是这首诗空灵气质的一部分。

挥手 A key expression in the poem. Read it as an image, mood, or grammar point in context. 「挥手」写弹琴的动作，却毫无用力之感。通常写鼓琴用「抚」「弄」「挑」，李白偏用「挥」，如挥扇、挥麈，见出僧人之洒脱不羁，也见出琴艺之纯熟——真正的高手，弹奏时是从容的，不是紧张的。这一个字把一场演奏写得像一次随性的抒发，与盛唐人昂扬自信的精神气象正相契合。相较之下，若换作抚或弄，便只成寻常弹技，失了僧人的潇洒；唯挥字带有一种不假思索的从容，仿佛琴声本就蓄于胸中，只待随手挥出。它也与尾联不觉碧山暮的忘形相呼应——正因挥手时全无滞碍，听者才会不知不觉沉入时光的流逝。一字之间，弹者与听者的神契已隐隐写就。

洗 A key expression in the poem. Read it as an image, mood, or grammar point in context. 「洗」是颈联的动词核心，写琴声对听者内心的净化。心本无形，却说被流水洗过，是把抽象的情感体验具象化。更重要的是，「洗」暗示听者原有一身尘俗，经琴声一涤而清，这正合道家、禅家「涤除玄览」的修养观。一个字，把一次听音乐升华为一次精神的沐浴。洗与流水紧相呼应，流水既为琴曲之名，又为洗涤之喻，听琴如临流濯缨，尘襟为之一爽，这正是伯牙子期高山流水遇知音的另一种写法——不是以琴求知音，而是以琴洗俗尘，使听者先成可用之耳，方能接住僧人的天外之音。李白此处把音乐的感染力落到净化二字上，比单纯写好听深了一层：琴之动人，终不在声之巧，而在心之清。

霜钟 A key expression in the poem. Read it as an image, mood, or grammar point in context. 「霜钟」即秋日之钟，既点明时令已入霜天，又自带佛寺的清远之意。钟声在唐人诗里常与禅、与清境相连，李白以霜钟收束琴音，使琴与钟两种清远之声在秋空里交汇。这个意象不只写声，更写境——它把一场私人听琴，安放在一个辽阔而清寂的秋日山寺的背景中，余味因此拉得很长。霜字尤耐寻味：秋霜既点节候之寒，又带一种洁净清肃的质感，与琴音之洗前后映照，听琴之后，天地似也被洗出一派清寒。钟声本有警世之意，余响入钟，便似琴声最终归入一种更高远的觉悟，娱耳之乐悄然转为安心之境。李白以声写声、以境写境，霜钟二字遂成全诗精神落脚处，使二十字的小诗有了悠长的禅外之音。