丹青引赠曹将军霸-Ode on a Painting -- To General Cao Ba
丹青引赠曹将军霸
杜甫
将军魏武之子孙，于今为庶为清门。
英雄割据虽已矣，文采风流今尚存。
学书初学卫夫人，但恨无过王右军。
丹青不知老将至，富贵于我如浮云。
开元之中常引见，承恩数上南薰殿。
凌烟功臣少颜色，将军下笔开生面。
良相头上进贤冠，猛将腰间大羽箭。
褒公鄂公毛发动，英姿飒爽来酣战。
先帝御马玉花聪，画工如山貌不同。
是日牵来赤墀下，迥立阊阖生长风。
诏谓将军拂绢素，意匠惨淡经营中。
斯须九重真龙出，一洗万古凡马空。
玉花却在御榻上，榻上庭前屹相向。
至尊含笑催赐金，圉人太仆皆惆怅。
弟子韩干早入室，亦能画马穷殊相。
干惟画肉不画骨，忍使骅骝气凋丧。
将军画善盖有神，必逢佳士亦写真。
即今飘泊干戈际，屡貌寻常行路人。
途穷反遭俗眼白，世上未有如公贫。
但看古来盛名下，终日坎缠其身。
Ode on a Painting -- To General Cao Ba
Du Fu
General， you， scion of Wei’s Emperor Wu of old，
Have now become a commoner of poor household.
Though separation of world by heroes is no more，
His talent in letters has passed down from days of yore.
From famed Madam Wei you first learned calligraphy.
Your regret is that you can’t surpass Wang Xizhi.
Absorbed in painting you don’t care you will old grow.
Wealth and rank are to you like clouds that come and go.
In Kaiyuan Reign you often at call went to court，
And honoured， were at times to Nanxun Palace brought.
The fading portraits of those meritorious men
In Lingyan Tower were restored to life by your pen：
On the heads of good ministers were hats well made；
By brave generals’ sides broad feather shafts were laid.
Looked like waving， both the Dukes of Bao’s and E’s hairs；
In fierce combat， valiant were their bearings and airs.
The late Emperor’s steed Spotted Jade was painted by
Many artists， but none could him well satisfy.
One day， to the scarlet palace steps it was led.
It stood spirited at the gate like long wind bred.
The Emperor’s edict bade you unroll the silk scroll.
Taking pains， you put into your work heart and soul.
Instantly the imperial real dragon appeared
With which common steeds since ancient times couldn’t be peered.
On the imperial couch the Spotted Jade seemed to lie，
With the real one standing on the palace steps to vie.
The Emperor smiled and ordered to reward you with gold，
And amazed were stablemen and grooms of Royal household.
Your pupil Han Gan has long learned your painting skill
And can paint horses of various postures at will；
But he draws only their flesh and not to the bone，
Which makes uncommon steeds’ spirit not fairly shown.
You may have gods’ help to get portraits well painted；
You’ll draw for any good man with you acquainted.
Now in the war time a wandering life you pass；
You should deign to draw common passersby， alas！
Worldlings will look with disdain on those dead-end men；
In the world none is poorer than you， that I ken.
Just see since time of old， men of great reputation
Have e’er been all day long tethered by frustration.