古代散文名篇精選范文
1、岳陽樓記 （宋）范仲淹
慶歷四年春，滕子京謫守巴陵郡。越明年，政通人和，百廢具興。乃重修岳陽樓，增其舊制，刻唐賢、今人詩賦于其上。屬予作文以記之。
予觀夫巴陵勝狀，在洞庭一湖。銜遠(yuǎn)山，吞長江，浩浩湯湯，橫無際涯；朝暉夕陰，氣象萬千。此則岳陽樓之大觀也。前人之述備矣。然則北通巫峽，南極瀟湘，遷客騷人，多會于此，覽物之情，得無異乎？
若夫霪雨霏霏，連月不開，陰風(fēng)怒號，濁浪排空；日星隱耀，山岳潛形；商旅不行，檣傾楫摧；薄暮冥冥，虎嘯猿啼。登斯樓也，則有去國懷鄉(xiāng)，憂讒畏譏，滿目蕭然，感極而悲者矣。
至若春和景明，波瀾不驚，上下天光，一碧萬頃；沙鷗翔集，錦鱗游泳；岸芷汀蘭，郁郁青青。而或長煙一空，皓月千里，浮光躍金，靜影沉璧，漁歌互答，此樂何極！登斯樓也，則有心曠神怡，寵辱偕忘，把酒臨風(fēng)，其喜洋洋者矣。
嗟夫！予嘗求古仁人之心，或異二者之為，何哉？不以物喜，不以己悲；居廟堂之高則憂其民；處江湖之遠(yuǎn)則憂其君。是進(jìn)亦憂，退亦憂。然則何時而樂耶？其必曰“先天下之憂而憂，后天下之樂而樂”乎。噫！微斯人，吾誰與歸？
時六年九月十五日。
譯文：
Yueyang Pavilion
Fan Zhongyan
In the spring of the fourth year of the reign of Qingli, Teng Zijing was banished from the capital to be governor of Baling Prefecture. After he had govern the district for a year, the administration became efficient, the people became united, and all things that had fallen into disrepair were given a new lease on life. Then he restored Yueyang Pavilion, adding new splendor to the original structure and having inscribed on it pomes by famous men of the Tang Dynasty as well as the present time. And he asked me to write an essay to commemorate this. Now I have found that the finest sights of Baling are concentrated in the region of Lake Dongting. Dongting, nibbling at the distant hills and gulping down the Yangtze River, strikes all beholders as vast and infinite, presenting a scene of boundless variety; and this is the superb view from Yueyang Pavilion. All this has been described in full by writers of earlier ages. However, since the lake is linked with Wu Gorge in the north and extends to the Xiao and Xiang rivers in the south, many exiles and wandering poets gather here, and their reactions to these sights vary greatly. During a period of incessant rain, when a spell of bad weather continues for more than a month, when louring winds bellow angrily, tumultuous waves hurl themselves against the sky, sun and stars hide their light, hills and mountains disappear, merchants have to halt in their travels, masts collapse and oars splinter, the day darkens and the roars of tigers and howls of monkeys are heard, if men come to this pavilion with a longing for home in their hearts or nursing a feeling of bitterness because of taunts and slander, they may find the sight depressing and fall prey to agitation or despair. But during mild and bright spring weather, when the waves are unruffled and the azure translucence above and below stretches before your eyes for myriads of li, when the water-birds fly down to congregate on the sands and fish with scales like glimmering silk disport themselves in the water, when the iris and orchids on the banks grow luxuriant and green; or when
dusk falls over this vast expanse and bright moon casts its light a thousand li, when the rolling waves glitter like gold and silent shadows in the water glimmer like jade, and the fishermen sing to each other for sheer joy, then men coming up to this pavilion may feel complete freedom of heart and ease of spirit, forgetting every worldly gain or setback, to hold their winecups in the breeze in absolute elation, delighted with life. But again when I consider the men of old who possessed true humanity, they seem to have responded quite differently. The reason, perhaps, may be this: natural beauty was not enough to make them happy, nor their own situation enough to make them sad. When such men are high in the government or at court, their first concern is for the people; when they retire to distant streams and lakes, their first concern is for their sovereign. Thus they worry both when in office and when in retirement. When, then, can they enjoy themselves in life? No doubt they are concerned before anyone else and enjoy themselves only after everyone else finds enjoyment. Surely there are the men in whose footsteps I should follow!
2、《項脊軒志》(節(jié)選) (明)歸有光
項脊軒，舊南閣子也。室僅方丈，可容一人居。百年老屋，塵泥滲漉，雨澤下注；每移案，顧視無可置者。又北向，不能得日，日過午已昏。余稍為修葺，使不上漏。前辟四窗，垣墻周庭，以當(dāng)南日，日影反照，室始洞然。又雜植蘭桂竹木于庭，舊時欄楯，亦遂增勝。借書滿架，偃仰嘯歌，冥然兀坐，萬籟有聲；而庭階寂寂，小鳥時來啄食，人至不去。三五之夜，明月半墻，桂影斑駁，風(fēng)移影動，珊珊可愛。
譯文：
The Nape
Gui Youguang
The south passageway from our sidedoor known as the “Nape” is barely ten square feet, just big enough to serve as a room for one. Our house is a hundred years old. Dust used to fall and rain to drip through the ceiling, and I could find nowhere else to move my desk. Moreover, facing north and getting no sun, the room grew dark after noon. I patched it up so that it no longer leaked, opened windows in front and built a wall south of the courtyard to reflect the sunlight and brighten up the place. I also planted orchids, cassias and bamboo, showing off the old balustrades to better advantage. My shelves are piled with books, and here I rest and sing or sit quietly listening to the sounds all around in the stillness of the courtyard. Small birds alighting in search of food do not fly off at the appearance of men, and when a full moon casts its bright light over half the wall the mottled shadows of the cassia trees stir in the wind with a dappled loveliness.
劉士聰譯文：
Xiangjixuan
Gui Youguang
My study , Xiangjixuan used to be called South Chamber. It was only ten feet by ten, large enough for one person to live in. As it was nearly one hundred years old, dust and flakes of plaster fell and the roof let in rain. When I moved my desk, I could find no place to keep it off the rain. It faced the north and the sun could not get inside. Soon after noon it turned dusky. I did some repairs to the roof to stop it leaking, opened four windows in front and built a wall around. I
planted orchids, laurels, bamboos and trees about and, therefore, the old railings looked brighter with colors. The bookshelf was filled with books on loan. I read and chanted aloud, beating time by swaying back and forth. Sitting in it I could hear various sounds emanating from outside. It was so quiet round the steps that small birds often came looking for food there, not scared of mens presence. On the fifteenth night of the lunar month the bright moon flooded half of the wall. When a gentle breeze arose, laurel leaves shimmered flecks of moonlight on the wall and it was pleasing to see the shadows dancing and hear the leaves rustling in the wind.
3、《黃岡竹樓記》（節(jié)選） [宋]王禹偁
黃岡之地多竹，大者如椽。竹工破之，刳去其節(jié)，用代陶瓦。比屋皆然，以其價廉而工省也。
子城西北隅，雉堞圮毀,蓁莽荒穢，因作小樓二間，與月波樓通。遠(yuǎn)吞山光，平挹江瀨，幽闃遼夐 ，不可具狀。夏宜急雨，有瀑布聲；冬宜密雪，有碎玉聲。宜鼓琴，琴調(diào)和暢；宜詠詩，詩韻清絕；宜圍棋，子聲丁丁然；宜投壺，矢聲錚錚然：皆竹樓之所助也。
譯文：
The Bamboo Pavilion at Huanggang
Wang Yucheng
The county of Huanggang abounds in bamboo, the largest as big as rafters. Bamboo workers split the stems and slice off the knots, and the bamboo is used in place of earthen tiles. All the buildings here are roofed with these bamboo tiles because they are cheap and save labour. At the northwest corner of my city the walls had crumbled, the ground was overgrown with brambles, the place wild and dirty; so I had a small two-room pavilion constructed there, linking it with the Moon Wave Pavilion. It affords a view of the distant hills and dips at the shallows of the river below. The quiet seclusion there defies description. This pavilion is delightful during a sudden summer shower, when rain beats on the roof like a waterfall; it is equally delightful during heavy snow in winter, when the snow tinkles on the roof like jade. The pavilion is a good place for strumming a lyre, for the echo is smooth and mellow. It is a good place for chanting poetry too, for the recitation rings out fine and clear; it is a good place for playing draughts and hearing the sound made by draughtsmen on board, or for playing touhu and hearing the thud of arrows dropping into the spot; for all these sounds are brought out to the best advantage in this Bamboo Pavilion.
4、《前赤壁賦》 （宋）蘇軾
壬戌之秋，七月既望，蘇子與客泛舟游于赤壁之下。清風(fēng)徐來，水波不興。舉酒屬客，誦明月之詩，歌窈窕之章。少焉，月出于東山之上，徘徊于斗牛之間。白露橫江，水光接天�？v一葦之所如，凌萬頃之茫然。浩浩乎如憑虛御風(fēng)，而不知其所止；飄飄乎如遺世獨立，羽化而登仙。
于是飲酒樂甚，扣舷而歌之。歌曰：“桂棹兮蘭槳，擊空明兮溯流光。渺渺兮予懷，望美人兮天一方�！笨陀写刀春嵳�，倚歌而和之。其聲嗚嗚然，如怨如慕，如泣如訴；余音裊裊，不絕如縷。舞幽壑之潛蛟，泣孤舟之嫠婦。
蘇子愀然，正襟危坐而問客曰：“何為其然也？”客曰：“月明星稀，烏鵲南飛，此非曹孟德之詩乎？西望夏口，東望武昌，山川相繆，郁乎蒼蒼，此非孟德之困于周郎者乎？方其破荊州，下江陵，順流而東也，舳艫千里，旌旗蔽空，釃酒臨江，橫槊賦詩，固一世之雄
也；而今安在哉！況吾與子漁樵于江渚之上，侶魚蝦而友麋鹿，駕一葉之扁舟，舉匏樽以相屬。寄蜉蝣于天地，渺滄海之一粟。哀吾生之須臾，羨長江之無窮。挾飛仙以遨游，抱明月而長終。知不可乎驟得，托遺響于悲風(fēng)�！�
蘇子曰：“客亦知夫水與月乎？逝者如斯，而未嘗往也；盈虛者如彼，而卒莫消長也。蓋將自其變者而觀之，則天地曾不能以一瞬；自其不變者而觀之，則物與我皆無盡也，而又何羨乎？且夫天地之間，物各有主，茍非吾之所有，雖一毫而莫取。惟江之清風(fēng)，與山間之明月，耳得之而為聲，目遇之而成色，取之無禁，用之不竭。是造物者之無盡藏也，而吾與子之所共適。”
客喜而笑，洗盞更酌。肴核既盡，杯盤狼藉。相與枕藉乎舟中，不知東方之既白。
譯文：
First Visit to the Red Cliff
Su Shi
In the autumn of the year Renxu, at the time of the full moon in the seventh month, I went by boat with some friends to the Red Cliff. There was a fresh, gentle breeze, but the water was unruffled. I raised my winecup to drink to my friends, and we chanted the poem on the bright moon, singing the stanza about the fair maid. Soon the moon rose above the eastern mountain, hovering between the Dipper and the Cowherd. The river stretched white, sparkling as if with dew, its glimmering water merging with the sky. We let our craft drift over the boundless expanse of water, feeling as free as if we were riding the wind bound for some unknown destination, as light as if we had left the human world and become winged immortals. Drinking, we became very merry; and we sang a song, beating time on the side of the boat. This was the song:
Our rudder and oars, redolent of cassia and orchids;
Strike the moons reflection, cleaving the glimmering water;
But my heart is far away,
Longing for my dear one under a different sky.
One friend, who was a good flutist, played an accompaniment to this song. The notes rang out nostalgic, mournful and plaintive, trailing on and on like a thread of gossamer, arousing the serpents lurking in dark caverns, drawing tears from a widow in her lonely boat. Sad at heart, I sat up straight to ask my friend why the music was so mournful.
He replied, “Didnt Cao Cao describe a scent like this in his poem: The moon is bright, the stars are scattered, the crows fly south…? And isnt this the place where he was defeated by Zhou Yu？ See how the mountains and streams intertwine, and how darkly imposing they are with Xiaokou to the west and Wuchang to the east. When Cao Cao took Jingzhou by storm and conquered Jiangling, then advanced eastward along the river, his battleships stretched for a thousand li, his armies pennons and banners filled the sky. When he offered a libation of wine on the river and lance in hand chanted his poem, he was the hero of his times. But where is he now? We are mere fishermen and woodcutters, keeping company with fish and prawns and befriending deer. We sail our skiff, frail as a leaf, and toast each other by drinking wine from a gourd. We are nothing but insects who live in this world but one day, mere specks of grain in the vastness of the ocean. I am grieved because our life is so transient, and envy the mighty river which flows on forever. I long to clasp winged fairies and roam freely, or to embrace the bright moon for all
eternity. But knowing that this cannot be attained at once, I give vent to my feelings in these notes which pass with the sad breeze. ”
Then I asked him, “Have you considered the water and the moon? Water flows away but is never lost; the moon waxes and wanes, but neither increases nor diminishes. If you look at its changing aspect, the universe passes in the twinkling of an eye; but if you look at its changeless aspect, all creatures including ourselves are imperishable. What reason have you to envy other things? Besides, everything in this universe has its owner; and if it does not belong to me not a tiny speck can I take. The sole exceptions are the cool breeze on the river, the bright moon over the hills. These serve as music to our ears, as colour to our eyes; these we can take freely and enjoy forever; these are inexhaustible treasures supplied by the Creator, and things in which we can delight together.”
My friend was pleased and laughed. Then we rinsed our cups and filled them with wine again. When we had finished the dishes, and cups and plates lay about us in disorder, we stretched out in the boat and did not notice the coming of dawn in the east.
5、《桃花源記》(節(jié)選)（晉）陶淵明
晉太元中，武陵人捕魚為業(yè)。緣溪行，忘路之遠(yuǎn)近。忽逢桃花林，夾岸數(shù)百步，中無雜樹，芳草鮮美，落英繽紛。漁人甚異之。復(fù)前行，欲窮其林。
林盡水源，便得一山，山有小口，仿佛若有光。便舍船，從口入。初極狹，才通人。復(fù)行數(shù)十步，豁然開朗。土地平曠，屋舍儼然，有良田美池桑竹之屬。阡陌交通，雞犬相聞。其中往來種作，男女衣著，悉如外人。黃發(fā)垂髫并怡然自樂。
譯文：
Peach-blossom Springs
Tao Yuanming
In the rein of Taiyuan① of the Jin Dynasty, there was a man of Wuling② who was a fisherman by trade. One day he was fishing up a stream in his boat, heedless of how far he had gone, when suddenly he came upon a forest of peach tress. On either bank for several hundred yards there were no other kinds of trees. The fragrant grass was beautiful to look at, all patterned with fallen blossoms. The fisherman was extremely surprised and went on further, determined to get to the end of this wood.
He found at the end of the wood the source of the stream and the foot of a cliff, where there was a small cave in which there seemed to be a faint light. He left his boat and went in through the mouth of the cave. At first it was very narrow, only wide enough for a man, but after forty or fifty yards he suddenly found himself in the open.
The place he had come to was level and spacious. There were houses and cottages arranged in a planned order; there was fine fields and beautiful pools; there were mulberry trees, bamboo groves, and many other kinds of trees as well; there were raised pathways round the fields; and he heard the fowls crowing and dogs barking. Gonging to and fro in all this and busied in working and planting, were people, both men and women. Their dress was not unlike that of people outside, and all of them,. Whether old people with white hair or children with their hair tied in a knot, were happy and content with themselves.
�、� AD 376-396
�、贗n Hunan Pronvince
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