Canonical Classics ← 第四十三回
第四十三回
hēiyāonièqínsēng
西yánglóngzhuōtuóhuí

A Black-River Fiend Carries the Monk Off · A Western-Ocean Dragon-Prince Catches the Alligator and Returns

中流怪風 播海翻江
模式 Mode Read Study
拼音 Pinyin Off
字體 Script
原文 Original text 繁體 Traditional Reader's edition 含詞賦 With rhapsody

中流怪風 播海翻江 A Demon-Wind at Mid-Stream; Seas Roiled, Rivers Churned

dāizizhetángsēngshāogōngchēngkāichuánzhàochōngliúzhíérfāngcáixíngdàozhōngjiānzhǐtīngdeshēngxiǎngliàngjuǎnlàngfānzhētiānzhènkuángfēngshífēnhàihǎofēngdāizizhetángsēngshāogōngchēngkāichuánzhàochōngliúzhíérfāngcáixíngdàozhōngjiānzhǐtīngdeshēngxiǎngliàngjuǎnlàngfānzhētiānzhènkuángfēngshífēnhàihǎofēng

dāngkōngpiànpàoyúnzhōngliūqiāncénghēilànggāodāngkōngpiànpàoyúnzhōngliūqiāncénghēilànggāo
liǎngànfēishābiānshùdǎozhèntiānháoliǎngànfēishābiānshùdǎozhèntiānháo
fānjiāngjiǎohǎilóngshényángchénhuādiāofānjiāngjiǎohǎilóngshényángchénhuādiāo
xiǎngruòchūnléihǒuzhènzhènxiōngèxiāoxiǎngruòchūnléihǒuzhènzhènxiōng饿èxiāo
xièbiēxiācháoshàngbàifēiqínzǒushòushīcháoxièbiēxiācháoshàngbàifēiqínzǒushòushīcháo
chuánjiēzāonànhǎirénjiāmìngláochuánjiēzāonànhǎirénjiāmìngláo
nèiwēngnángōujiānshāozizěnchēnggāonèiwēngnángōujiānshāozizěnchēnggāo
jiēfānzhuānfángdǎojīngtiāndòngtàishānyáojiēfānzhuānfángdǎojīngtiāndòngtàishānyáo

逐句解 Line by line

dāizizhetángsēngshāogōngchēngkāichuánzhàochōngliúzhíér dāizizhetángsēngshāogōngchēngkāichuánzhàochōngliúzhíér

The Idiot handed the Tang Monk aboard; the boatman pushed off, plied his pole against the current, and away they went straight on.

fāngcáixíngdàozhōngjiānzhǐtīngdeshēngxiǎngliàngjuǎnlàngfānzhētiān fāngcáixíngdàozhōngjiānzhǐtīngdeshēngxiǎngliàngjuǎnlàngfānzhētiān

They had just reached mid-stream when there came a ringing crash — waves rolled and billows heaved, blotting out the sky and blinding the sun.

zhènkuángfēngshífēnhài zhènkuángfēngshífēnhài

That blast of wild wind was fierce indeed!

hǎofēng hǎofēng

A fine wind it was:

好風 — the rhapsody tag ('a fine wind'); the 賦 that follows renders the demon-raised storm.

dāngkōngpiànpàoyúnzhōngliūqiāncénghēilànggāo dāngkōngpiànpàoyúnzhōngliūqiāncénghēilànggāo

In mid-air a bank of cannon-cloud arose; down the current a thousand tiers of black waves reared high.

liǎngànfēishābiānshùdǎozhèntiānháo liǎngànfēishābiānshùdǎozhèntiānháo

On either shore the flying sand darkened the light of day; on every side the trees crashed down, their roar shaking heaven.

fānjiāngjiǎohǎilóngshényángchénhuādiāo fānjiāngjiǎohǎilóngshényángchénhuādiāo

It churned the rivers and roiled the seas till the dragon-gods took fright; it flung up the soil and raised the dust till flower and tree withered.

xiǎngruòchūnléihǒuzhènzhènxiōngèxiāo xiǎngruòchūnléihǒuzhènzhènxiōng饿èxiāo

Howling, it sounded like the roar of spring thunder; gust upon gust, it raged like the snarl of a starving tiger.

xièbiēxiācháoshàngbàifēiqínzǒushòushīcháo xièbiēxiācháoshàngbàifēiqínzǒushòushīcháo

Crab and turtle, fish and shrimp turned belly-up as if in worship; birds of the air and beasts of the field lost nest and lair.

chuánjiēzāonànhǎirénjiāmìngláo chuánjiēzāonànhǎirénjiāmìngláo

On the Five Lakes the boat-folk all met with disaster; by the Four Seas the households found their lives unsure.

nèiwēngnángōujiānshāozizěnchēnggāo nèiwēngnángōujiānshāozizěnchēnggāo

In the brooks the old fisherman could scarcely hold his hook; on the river, how should the boatman ply his pole?

jiēfānzhuānfángdǎojīngtiāndòngtàishānyáo jiēfānzhuānfángdǎojīngtiāndòngtàishānyáo

It tore off tiles and overturned bricks till houses fell; it startled heaven and shook the earth till Mount Tai itself trembled.


總評 Commentary

Mid-crossing, the ferryman raises a storm — a 賦 in the 好風 mode piling cannon-cloud on black wave, felled trees, frighted dragon-gods, capsized households, even a trembling Mount Tai. The hyperbole marks the demon's true power and the peril now closing over Tripitaka.