小石潭记 译文

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夫岱宗夏，首夏之山，越以喜怒为景。至是，独有小石潭，匪逾尺许，清澈见底。潭上竹树群萃，一泉千石争流。流入潭者，数百许，皆纡青纡碧，间以白焉，状如团英，曲如缠带。潭中鱼虾，游泳翔跃，如龙如蛇，吞水吐雾，争瞻争翘，轻重鳞介，各披其形，悉具瑶色。且明且灭，层层相契，或列或绞，不终于一贯，欲尽欲复，周而复始。卒岁三十有六，夜眺月涵，潭水明灭，瑞若清镜。自此以后，虽中隐辟，受业遐荒，俯仰所遇，恒有物可玩。迨数载，学者闻之，以为琢玉之言，斋厌而去。方竟十载，临日秋霜，颂古之忘言，愿其故于斯流。

小石潭记 译文

*The Record of the Small Stone Pool*

夫岱宗夏，首夏之山，越以喜怒为景。至是，独有小石潭，匪逾尺许，清澈见底。潭上竹树群萃，一泉千石争流。流入潭者，数百许，皆纡青纡碧，间以白焉，状如团英，曲如缠带。潭中鱼虾，游泳翔跃，如龙如蛇，吞水吐雾，争瞻争翘，轻重鳞介，各披其形，悉具瑶色。且明且灭，层层相契，或列或绞，不终于一贯，欲尽欲复，周而复始。卒岁三十有六，夜眺月涵，潭水明灭，瑞若清镜。自此以后，虽中隐辟，受业遐荒，俯仰所遇，恒有物可玩。迨数载，学者闻之，以为琢玉之言，斋厌而去。方竟十载，临日秋霜，颂古之忘言，愿其故于斯流。

In the summer of Dai, the foremost of all the summer mountains, emotions serve as the scenery. Amidst this, there lies alone the Small Stone Pool, not exceeding a foot in size, yet so clear that the bottom is visible. Above the pool, bamboos and trees cluster, while a spring of a thousand stones contends as it flows into the pool. The waters flowing into the pool, numbering several hundred, wind gracefully in shades of green and blue, interspersed with white, resembling clumps of floating weed, twisting like entwined ribbons. In the pool, fish and shrimp swim and leap, resembling dragons and serpents, swallowing water and spitting mist, contending and rising, their scales and shells shining with iridescence. They appear and disappear, layers overlapping, arranged in rows or twisted together, without reaching a conclusion, desiring fulfillment yet returning again, repeating endlessly. After thirtysix years, one night, gazing at the moon's reflection in the pool, its waters clear and shimmering like a sacred mirror. Since then, although dwelling in seclusion and distant from worldly affairs, in every glance, there was always something wondrous to behold. In time, word spread among scholars, deeming it a discourse on polishing jade, and they left the fasting and seclusion behind. After a decade had passed, facing the autumn frost of old age, they sang of ancient forgotten words, wishing their essence to flow through here.

In the summer of Dai, the foremost of all the summer mountains, emotions serve as the scenery. Amidst this, there lies alone the Small Stone Pool, not exceeding a foot in size, yet so clear that the bottom is visible. Above the pool, bamboos and trees cluster, while a spring of a thousand stones contends as it flows into the pool. The waters flowing into the pool, numbering several hundred, wind gracefully in shades of green and blue, interspersed with white, resembling clumps of floating weed, twisting like entwined ribbons. In the pool, fish and shrimp swim and leap, resembling dragons and serpents, swallowing water and spitting mist, contending and rising, their scales and shells shining with iridescence. They appear and disappear, layers overlapping, arranged in rows or twisted together, without reaching a conclusion, desiring fulfillment yet returning again, repeating endlessly. After thirtysix years, one night, gazing at the moon's reflection in the pool, its waters clear and shimmering like a sacred mirror. Since then, although dwelling in seclusion and distant from worldly affairs, in every glance, there was always something wondrous to behold. In time, word spread among scholars, deeming it a discourse on polishing jade, and they left the fasting and seclusion behind. After a decade had passed, facing the autumn frost of old age, they sang of ancient forgotten words, wishing their essence to flow through here.

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