Classical Prose
滕王阁序
王勃
豫章故郡，洪都新府。
星分翼轸，地接衡庐。
襟三江而带五湖，控蛮荆而引瓯越。
物华天宝，龙光射牛斗之墟；
人杰地灵，徐孺下陈蕃之榻。
雄州雾列，俊采星驰。
台隍枕夷夏之交，宾主尽东南之美。
都督阎公之雅望，棨戟遥临；
宇文新州之懿范，襜帷暂驻。
十旬休假，胜友如云；
千里逢迎，高朋满座。
腾蛟起凤，孟学士之词宗；
紫电青霜，王将军之武库。
家君作宰，路出名区；
童子何知，躬逢胜饯。
时维九月，序属三秋。
潦水尽而寒潭清，烟光凝而暮山紫。
俨骖騑于上路，访风景于崇阿。
临帝子之长洲，得天人之旧馆。
层台耸翠，上出重霄；
飞阁翔丹，下临无地。
鹤汀凫渚，穷岛屿之萦回；
桂殿兰宫，即冈峦之体势。
披绣闼，俯雕甍，山原旷其盈视，川泽纡其骇瞩。
闾阎扑地，钟鸣鼎食之家；
舸舰迷津，青雀黄龙之舳。
云销雨霁，彩彻区明。
落霞与孤鹜齐飞，秋水共长天一色。
渔舟唱晚，响穷彭蠡之滨；
雁阵惊寒，声断衡阳之浦。
遥襟甫畅，逸兴遄飞。
爽籁发而清风生，纤歌凝而白云遏。
睢园绿竹，气凌彭泽之樽；
邺水朱华，光照临川之笔。
四美具，二难并。
穷睇眄于中天，极娱游于暇日。
天高地迥，觉宇宙之无穷；
兴尽悲来，识盈虚之有数。
望长安于日下，目吴会于云间。
地势极而南溟深，天柱高而北辰远。
关山难越，谁悲失路之人？
萍水相逢，尽是他乡之客。
怀帝阍而不见，奉宣室以何年？
嗟乎！时运不齐，命途多舛。
冯唐易老，李广难封。
屈贾谊于长沙，非无圣主；
窜梁鸿于海曲，岂乏明时？
所赖君子见机，达人知命。
老当益壮，宁移白首之心？
穷且益坚，不坠青云之志。
酌贪泉而觉爽，处涸辙以犹欢。
北海虽赊，扶摇可接；
东隅已逝，桑榆非晚。
孟尝高洁，空余报国之情；
阮籍猖狂，岂效穷途之哭！
勃，三尺微命，一介书生。
无路请缨，等终军之弱冠；
有怀投笔，慕宗悫之长风。
舍簪笏于百龄，奉晨昏于万里。
非谢家之宝树，接孟氏之芳邻。
他日趋庭，叨陪鲤对；
今兹捧袂，喜托龙门。
杨意不逢，抚凌云而自惜；
钟期既遇，奏流水以何惭？
呜乎！胜地不常，盛筵难再。
兰亭已矣，梓泽丘墟。
临别赠言，幸承恩于伟饯；
登高作赋，是所望于群公。
敢竭鄙怀，恭疏短引。
一言均赋，四韵俱成。
请洒潘江，各倾陆海云尔。
Translation
This is the former commandery of Yuzhang, now the new prefecture of Hongdu. Its constellations divide Yi and Zhen; its lands connect Heng and Lu mountains. It wears the Three Rivers as a sash and the Five Lakes as a belt, controlling Man-Jing and leading to Ou-Yue. Here treasures of heaven shine forth — the Dragon Blade's radiance reaches the Ox and Dipper stars. Here human excellence matches earthly splendor — Xu Ru once lowered Chen Fan's couch. The mighty prefecture rises like mist; gifted minds streak like stars. This is the ninth month, deep in autumn. The standing waters have drained, cold pools grow clear; mist and light congeal, evening hills turn purple. Ornate carriages climb the high road; travelers seek scenery among the lofty peaks. The layered terraces rise in emerald, piercing the layered clouds. The flying pavilions gleam in cinnabar, overlooking bottomless space. Open the embroidered tower door, gaze down at carved roof ridges. Mountains and plains stretch wide before the eyes; rivers and marshes wind in startling splendor. A falling rosy cloud flies with a single wild duck; autumn river shares one color with the endless sky. Fishing boats sing at evening, their sounds reaching the shores of Pengli. Lines of wild geese startle at cold, their cries breaking off at the islets of Hengyang. When delight reaches its height, sorrow comes — one understands that fullness and emptiness obey their measure. Gazing toward Chang'an beneath the sun, straining toward Wuhui among the clouds. Mountains are hard to cross — who pities the one who has lost his way? Meeting by chance like drifting duckweed — all are travelers in a strange land. Alas! Times are not even, and the path of life is full of hardships. Feng Tang ages easily; Li Guang could not be enfeoffed. Qu Yuan was wronged at Changsha — not because there was no wise ruler. Liang Hong hid at the seashore — was it because there was no enlightened age? What sustains a man is the gentleman's insight into occasion and the wise person's acceptance of fate. Old age should make one more vigorous, not change the heart of a white-haired man. In hardship one should become stronger, not relinquish the ambition that reaches the clouds. Drink from the Greed Spring and remain pure; dwell in a dry rut and still be joyful. The Northern Sea may be far, but the whirlwind can carry one there. The morning may be lost, but the evening is not too late.
Analysis
The Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng is Wang Bo's masterpiece and one of the greatest works of parallel prose (pianwen) in Chinese literary history. Wang Bo wrote it at age twenty-six, and it displays an extraordinary command of the form — dense historical allusion, impeccable parallelism, rich imagery, and a profound arc from celebration to melancholy to self-encouragement. The essay begins with geography and history, establishing the cultural significance of the region. The famous line 'A falling rosy cloud flies with a single wild duck; autumn river shares one color with the endless sky' is the visual climax, condensing an entire autumn sunset into a single couplet of breathtaking scope. The essay then shifts inward: 'When delight reaches its height, sorrow comes — one understands that fullness and emptiness obey their measure.' This is the emotional fulcrum. Wang Bo moves from the external spectacle to internal reflection, from the joy of the feast to the sadness of human transience. A cascade of historical references follows — Feng Tang, Li Guang, Jia Yi, Liang Hong — all talented men who suffered unjust treatment. Wang Bo identifies with them, but the essay refuses to remain in sorrow. The famous self-encouragement passage — 'Old age should make one more vigorous, not change the heart of a white-haired man. In hardship one should become stronger, not relinquish the ambition that reaches the clouds' — represents a sudden turn from lamentation to resolve. The closing line 'The morning may be lost, but the evening is not too late' ends the essay on a note of hope and persistence. Wang Bo's early death at twenty-seven gave the essay's phrases about transience — 'the fine gathering is hard to repeat' — an unintended poignancy.
About the Author
Wang Bo, courtesy name Zi'an, was an early Tang poet and writer, born in Longmen, Jiangzhou. He is regarded as the leading figure among the 'Four Great Masters of Early Tang' and a major force in the literary reform of the period. Wang Bo showed brilliance early and became famous young. He excelled in five-character regulated verse and parallel prose, known for broad vision and ornate diction. His 'Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng' is considered the finest work of parallel prose in Chinese literature. He also wrote celebrated poems such as 'Seeing Du Shaofu off to Shuzhou' and 'In the Mountains.' Wang Bo died at twenty-seven by drowning on a sea voyage, cutting short a brilliant career.