《代悲白头翁》是唐代诗人刘希夷的作品。此诗虽是拟古乐府，但构思精妙，开拓了全新的意境。诗中多处运用对比手法，大量使用重叠语句，循环复沓，再者以四个问句引领，一唱三叹，韶华不再的无奈辛酸在反复追问咏叹中被层层浓重着色，具有强大的穿透力。此诗感伤情调极为浓郁，但并不颓废，风格清丽婉转，曲尽其妙，艺术性较高，历来传为名篇。

刘希夷·《代悲白头翁》

洛阳城东桃李花，飞来飞去落谁家？

洛阳女儿惜颜色，行逢落花长叹息。

今年花落颜色改，明年花开复谁在？

已见松柏摧为薪，更闻桑田变成海。

古人无复洛城东，今人还对落花风。

年年岁岁花相似，岁岁年年人不同。

寄言全盛红颜子，应怜半死白头翁。

此翁白头真可怜，伊昔红颜美少年。

公子王孙芳树下，清歌妙舞落花前。

光禄池台文锦绣，将军楼阁画神仙。

一朝卧病无相识，三春行乐在谁边？

宛转蛾眉能几时？须臾鹤发乱如丝。

但看古来歌舞地，唯有黄昏鸟雀悲。

Song for White Hair

Liu Hsi-yi

East of the walls of Lo-yang

the flowers of peach and plum,

Flying here, flying away,

into whose yard falling now?

And the young girls of Lo-yang

grieve for their loveliness,

Walking they meet the fallen flowers

and sigh their long-drawn sighs.

This year as the flowers fall

their loveliness is changing.

Next year when the flowers bloom,

who will still be here?

For I have seen cypress and pine

smashed apart to kindling,

And heard that fields of mulberries

have changed into the sea.

Those of the past will never again

be east of Lo-yang’s walls,

But people today still must face

the winds that bring down flowers.

Every year, year after year,

the flowers are always alike ;

Year after year, every year,

the people are not the same.

I send these words to boys in their prime,

youths with glowing faces.

Have pity on one already dying,

A white-haired old man.

The white hair of the old man

is truly worthy your pity—

A while ago his face glowed too,

a handsome young man.

You princelings, young noblemen

beneath the flowering trees,

clearing singing, exquisite dancing

before the falling flowers,

The Chamberlain’s pool terrace,

patterned as rich brocade,

And tower and hall of General Liang

bear murals of the gods.

Then one morning lie down sick,

no one knows your name,

And the pleasures of the springtime

linger beside another.

Eyebrows gracefully curving—

how long can they endure?

In an instant crane-white hair,

tangled all like silk.

Look now to where from ancient days

were lands of song and dancing.

Now nothing more than the brown of dusk

and the lament of sparrows.

（Stephen Owen 译）

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