（原文略）
译文三Moonlight over the Lotus Pond
王椒升 译
（参见《英语世界》1985年第5期）
Of late, I have been in a rather uneasy frame of mind. Sitting in my courtyard enjoying the cool evening, I suddenly thought of the lotus pond that I pass on my way day in and day out.Tonight, it must have a charm all its own, bathed in the light of the full moon.The moon was now rising slowly. Beyond the wall, the happy laughter of children on the road had died away.So putting on my coat quietly,I went out closing the door softly behind me.
A path paved with coal-dust zigzags along the lotus pond,so secluded as to be little frequented in the daytime, to say nothing of its loneliness at night. Around the pond grows a profusion of luxuriant trees.On one side of the path are some willows and other plants whose names are unknown to me.On moonless nights, the place has a gloomy, somewhat forbiddding appearance.But on this particular evening, it had a cheerful out look,though the moon was pale.
On the uneven surface of the pond,all one could see was a mass of leaves,all interlaced and shooting high above the water like the skirts of slim dancing girls.The leaves were dotted in between the layers with white flowers,some blooming gracefully;otherslas if bashfully,still in bud.They were like bright pearls and stars in an azuresky.Their subtle fragrance was wafted by the passing breeze,in whiffs airy as he notes of a song coming faintly from some distant tower.There was a tremor on leaf anf flower,which ,with the suddenness of lightning,soon drifted to the far end of the pond.The leaves,softly hidden from view,water was a tremor on leaf and flower,which, with the suddenness of lightning,soon drifted to the far end of the pond.The leaves,softly hidden from view,water was rippling even its color was not discernible so that the leaves looked more enchanting.
Moonlight was flowing quietly like a stream down to the leaves and flowers.A light mist overspread the lotus pond.Leaf anf flower seemed washed in milk.It was a full moon,but a pale cloud hanging overhead made it lose some of its brilliance. Moonlight was glowing from behind the trees, and the dense shrubs above cast down gloomy ghost-like shadows of arching willows were like a picture etched on the lotus leaves.Uneven as was the moonlight over the pond, there was a harmony between light and shade,rhythmic as a well-known melody played on the violin.
Skirting the lotus pond,far and near,high and low,are trees among which willows predominate.They entirely envelop the pond,leaving only a few spaces on one side of the path,as if purposely for the moonbeams to penetrate.The trees were now all enshrouded in a heavy gloom,which at first sight looked like a pall of mist,but the lovely shape of the willows remained distinguishable in spite of it.Distant hills loomed above the tree-tops in dim outline.Here and there,a few rays from street-lamps filtered through the trees,listless as the eyes of one who is dozing.At this moment,most lively were the cicadas chirping in the trees and the frogs croaking under the water.But theirs was all the merrymaking,in which I did not have the least share.
Then all of a sudden,I was reminded of the custom of plucking lotus seeds revalent in Jiangnan,handed down probably from a very remote period and becoming quite popular during the Six Dynasties,as may be seen roughly in songs and poems that survive.this in turn revived my memory of the following lines in the "West Isley Dittty":
In autumn I pluck lotus seeds in the South Pond,
Tall are the lotus plants,taller than me.
My head bent low,with lotus seeds I play,
Green,green as water all the lotus seeds I see.
If there were people plucking lotus seeds here tonight,they might indeed find lotus plants exceeding them in height; but the absence of the merest shadow of flowing water would spoil it.And that is what has set me thinking about Jiangnan.