英语翻译还有它的古文翻译和它表达的思想感情.急用!

英语翻译还有它的古文翻译和它表达的思想感情.急用!
英语翻译
还有它的古文翻译和它表达的思想感情.急用!

英语翻译还有它的古文翻译和它表达的思想感情.急用!
《琵琶行》作于唐宪宗元和十一年（公元816年）秋天,时白居易四十五岁,任江州司马.白居易在元和十年以前先是任左拾遗,后又任左赞善大夫.元和十年六月,唐朝藩镇势力派刺客在长安街头刺死了宰相武元衡,刺伤了御史中丞裴度,朝野大哗.藩镇势力在朝中的代言人又进一步提出要求罢免裴度,以安藩镇的“反侧”之心.这时白居易挺身而出,坚决主张讨贼,认为否则国将不国.白居易这种主张本来是对的,但因为他平素写讽喻诗得罪了许多朝廷的权贵,于是有人就说他官小位卑,擅越职分.再加上有人给他罗织罪名,于是贬之为江州司马.江州的州治在今江西省九江市.司马是刺史的助手,听起来也像是不错,但实际上在中唐时期这个职位是专门安置“犯罪”官员的,是变相发配到某地去接受监督看管的.这件事对白居易影响很大,是他思想变化的转折点,从此他早期的斗争锐气逐渐销磨,消极情绪日渐增多. 　　《琵琶行》作于他贬官到江州的第二年,作品借着叙述琵琶女的高超演技和她的凄凉身世,抒发了作者个人政治上受打击、遭贬斥的抑郁悲凄之情.在这里,诗人把一个琵琶女视为自己的风尘知己,与她同病相怜,写人写己,哭己哭人,宦海的浮沉、生命的悲哀,全部融合为一体,因而使作品具有不同寻常的感染力. 　　诗前的小序介绍了长诗所述故事发生的时间、地点以及琵琶女其人,和作者写作此诗的缘起,实际上它已经简单地概括了后面长诗的基本内容.左迁：指降职、贬官.湓浦口：湓水与长江的汇口,在今九江市西.京都声：首都长安的韵味,一方面指曲调的地域特征,一方面也是指演技高超,非一般地方所有.善才：唐代用以称琵琶演奏家.命酒：派人整备酒宴.悯然,伤心的样子.恬然：安乐的样子.迁谪意：指被降职、被流放的悲哀.作者说他被贬到九江一年来,每天都很快乐,只有今天听了琵琶女的演奏,才勾起了他被流放的悲哀.
Song Of A Pipa Player
One night by riverside I bade a friend good-bye;
In maple leaves and rushes autumn seemed to sigh.
My friend and I dismounted and came into the boat;
We wished to drink but there was no music afloat.
Without flute songs we drank our cups with heavy heart;
The moonbeams blent with water when we were to part.
Suddenly o'er the stream we heard a pipa sound;
I forgot to go home and the guest stood spellbound.
We followed where the music led to find the player,
But heard the pipa stop and no music in the air.
We moved our boat beside the player's to invite
Her to drink at replenished feast by lamplight.
Again we called the urged her to appear until
She came, her face half hid behind a pipa still.
She turned the pegs and tested twice or thrice each string;
Before a tune was played we heard her feelings sing.
Then note on note she struck with pathos deep and strong;
It seemed to say she'd missed her dreams all her life long.
Head bent, she played with unpremeditated art
On and on to pour out her overflowing heart.
She lightly plucked, slowly stroked and twanged loud
The song of "Green Waist" after that of "Rainbow Cloud."
The thick strings loudly thrummed like the pattering rain;
The fine strings softly tinkled in murmuring strain.
When mingling loud and soft notes were together played,
'Twas like large and small pearls dropping on plate of jade.
Now clear like orioles warbling in flowery land,
Then sobbing like a stream running along the sand.
But the stream seemed so cold as to tighten the string;
From tightened strings no more sound could be heard to ring.
Still we heard hidden grief and vague regret concealed;
Music expressed then far less than silence revealed.
Suddenly we heard water burst a silver jar,
The clash of spears and sabres coming from afar.
She made a central sweep when the music was ending;
The four strings made one sound, as of silk one is rending.
Silence reigned left and right of the boat, east and west;
We saw but autumn moon white in the river's breast.
She slid the plectrum pensively between the strings,
Smoothed out her dress and rose with a composed mien.
"I spent," she said, "in capital my early springs,
Where at the foot of Mount of Toads my home had been.
At thirteen I learned on the pipa how to play,
And my name was among the primas of the day.
My skill the admiration of the masterss won,
And my beauty was envied by deserted fair one.
The gallant young men vied to shower gifts on me;
One tuned played, countless silk rolls were given with glee.
Beating time, I let silver comb and pin drop down,
And spilt-out wine oft stained my blood-red silken gown.
From year to year I laughed my joyous life away
On moonlit autumn night or windy vernal day.
My younger brother left for war, and died my maid;
Days passed, nights came, and my beauty began to fade.
Fewer and fewer were cabs and steeds at my door;
I married a smug merchant when my prime was o'er.
The merchant cared for money much more than for me;
One month ago he went away to purchase tea,
Leaving his lonely wife alone in empty boat;
Shrouded in moonlight, on the cold river I float.
Deep in the night I dreamed of happy bygone years
And woke to find my rouged face crisscrossed with tears."
Listening to her sad music, I sighed with pain;
Hearing her story, I sighed again and again.
"Both of us in misfortune go from shore to shore.
Meeting now, need we have known each other before?
I was banished from the capital last ear
To live degraded and ill in this city here.
The city's too remote to know melodious song,
So I have never heard music the whole year long.
I dwell by riverbank on low and damp ground
In a house yellow reeds and stunted bamboos surround.
What is here to be heard from daybreak till nightfall
But biggons' cry and cuckoo's homeward-going call?
By blooming riverside and under autumn moon
I've often taken wine up and drunk it alone.
Of course I've mountain songs and village pipes to hear,
But they are crude and strident ang grate on the ear.
Listening to you playing on pipa tonight,
With your music divine e'en my hearing seems bring.
Will you sit down and play for us a tune once more?
I'll write for you an ode to the pipa I adore."
Touched by what I said, the player stood for long,
Then sat down, tore at strings and played another song.
So sad, so drear, so different, it moved us deep;
All those who heard it hid the face and began to weep.
Of all the company at table who wept most?
It was none other than the exiled blue-robed host.

Song Of A Pipa Player
One night by riverside I bade a friend good-bye;
In maple leaves and rushes autumn seemed to sigh.
My friend and I dismounted and came into the boat;
We wishe...

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Song Of A Pipa Player
One night by riverside I bade a friend good-bye;
In maple leaves and rushes autumn seemed to sigh.
My friend and I dismounted and came into the boat;
We wished to drink but there was no music afloat.
Without flute songs we drank our cups with heavy heart;
The moonbeams blent with water when we were to part.
Suddenly o'er the stream we heard a pipa sound;
I forgot to go home and the guest stood spellbound.
We followed where the music led to find the player,
But heard the pipa stop and no music in the air.
We moved our boat beside the player's to invite
Her to drink at replenished feast by lamplight.
Again we called the urged her to appear until
She came, her face half hid behind a pipa still.
She turned the pegs and tested twice or thrice each string;
Before a tune was played we heard her feelings sing.
Then note on note she struck with pathos deep and strong;
It seemed to say she'd missed her dreams all her life long.
Head bent, she played with unpremeditated art
On and on to pour out her overflowing heart.
She lightly plucked, slowly stroked and twanged loud
The song of "Green Waist" after that of "Rainbow Cloud."
The thick strings loudly thrummed like the pattering rain;
The fine strings softly tinkled in murmuring strain.
When mingling loud and soft notes were together played,
'Twas like large and small pearls dropping on plate of jade.
Now clear like orioles warbling in flowery land,
Then sobbing like a stream running along the sand.
But the stream seemed so cold as to tighten the string;
From tightened strings no more sound could be heard to ring.
Still we heard hidden grief and vague regret concealed;
Music expressed then far less than silence revealed.
Suddenly we heard water burst a silver jar,
The clash of spears and sabres coming from afar.
She made a central sweep when the music was ending;
The four strings made one sound, as of silk one is rending.
Silence reigned left and right of the boat, east and west;
We saw but autumn moon white in the river's breast.
She slid the plectrum pensively between the strings,
Smoothed out her dress and rose with a composed mien.
"I spent," she said, "in capital my early springs,
Where at the foot of Mount of Toads my home had been.
At thirteen I learned on the pipa how to play,
And my name was among the primas of the day.
My skill the admiration of the masterss won,
And my beauty was envied by deserted fair one.
The gallant young men vied to shower gifts on me;
One tuned played, countless silk rolls were given with glee.
Beating time, I let silver comb and pin drop down,
And spilt-out wine oft stained my blood-red silken gown.
From year to year I laughed my joyous life away
On moonlit autumn night or windy vernal day.
My younger brother left for war, and died my maid;
Days passed, nights came, and my beauty began to fade.
Fewer and fewer were cabs and steeds at my door;
I married a smug merchant when my prime was o'er.
The merchant cared for money much more than for me;
One month ago he went away to purchase tea,
Leaving his lonely wife alone in empty boat;
Shrouded in moonlight, on the cold river I float.
Deep in the night I dreamed of happy bygone years
And woke to find my rouged face crisscrossed with tears."
Listening to her sad music, I sighed with pain;
Hearing her story, I sighed again and again.
"Both of us in misfortune go from shore to shore.
Meeting now, need we have known each other before?
I was banished from the capital last ear
To live degraded and ill in this city here.
The city's too remote to know melodious song,
So I have never heard music the whole year long.
I dwell by riverbank on low and damp ground
In a house yellow reeds and stunted bamboos surround.
What is here to be heard from daybreak till nightfall
But biggons' cry and cuckoo's homeward-going call?
By blooming riverside and under autumn moon
I've often taken wine up and drunk it alone.
Of course I've mountain songs and village pipes to hear,
But they are crude and strident ang grate on the ear.
Listening to you playing on pipa tonight,
With your music divine e'en my hearing seems bring.
Will you sit down and play for us a tune once more?
I'll write for you an ode to the pipa I adore."
Touched by what I said, the player stood for long,
Then sat down, tore at strings and played another song.
So sad, so drear, so different, it moved us deep;
All those who heard it hid the face and began to weep.
Of all the company at table who wept most?
It was none other than the exiled blue-robed host.

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