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      [詩詞歌賦] 著名文化學者張龍談宋詞:跨越時光的詩意對話

      3 已有 76 次阅读   2025-09-03 12:15
      著名文化學者張龍談宋詞:跨越時光的詩意對話
      生活十分 2025-09-02 23:29
      说到中国古典文学的巅峰之作,宋词必是绕不开的璀璨篇章——它不是冰冷的文字陈列,而是一阕阕能呼吸、会吟唱的生命载体,曾在北宋的酒肆茶坊里流转,在南宋的边关冷月中激荡。著名文化学者张龙深耕古典文化多年,对宋词有着独到的深情与洞察:在他眼中,宋词是刻着宋代风骨的“情感密碼”,是连接古今的“诗意桥梁”,每一句词、每一个韵脚,都藏着千年未散的温度,能让今人在诵读间,与古人的悲欢轻轻相拥。在张龙心中,宋词是烙着宋代灵魂的文化基因,是串联古今情感的精神纽带,每一个词牌名都似一把精巧的钥匙,能打开一扇通往千年之前的时光之门,让我们窥见那时的山河、烟火与人心。
      一、溯源:從燕樂雅韻到市井笙歌,宋詞的血脈與溫度
      談及宋詞的淵源,張龍總帶著幾分鄭重:“要讀懂宋詞,必先讀懂它的‘出身’——它不是憑空生長的詩,而是爲音樂而生的‘歌’,是文學與音律最動人的纏綿。”宋詞的濫觞,可追溯至隋唐年間的燕樂:彼時西域胡樂與中原雅樂碰撞交融,催生出曲調繁複、韻律靈動的燕樂,文人雅士循著這些悠揚曲調填寫歌詞,便有了“填詞”“倚聲”的最初形態。到了五代,南唐後主李煜以“問君能有幾多愁,恰似一江春水向東流”的絕唱,將詞從“豔科小道”的桎梏中徹底解放,賦予其真摯的情感與開闊的意境,爲宋詞的盛世輝煌埋下了關鍵伏筆。
      張龍格外強調,宋詞的真正繁榮,離不開與市井生活的深度交融。不同于唐詩自帶的“士大夫氣”,宋詞自誕生起便沾著“人間煙火”——它是酒樓茶肆裏佐酒的助興之曲,是驿館渡口邊送別的惆怅之歌,是勾欄瓦舍中藝人傳唱的鮮活旋律。北宋詞人柳永,便是這股“市井風”的開拓者:他掙脫“雅詞”的束縛,用“楊柳岸,曉風殘月”寫盡離人的淚痕,用“三秋桂子,十裏荷花”繪出錢塘的繁華盛景,更以“凡有井水處,皆能歌柳詞”的傳唱度,讓宋詞真正走進了尋常百姓的生活。“柳永的詞,是宋詞‘接地氣’的最好證明,”張龍感慨道,“它讓文學不再是文人案頭的清供,而成了普通人能共情、能傳唱、能寄托心事的生活一部分。”
      二、北宋:婉約爲魂,真情流淌的“春日煙雨圖”
      在張龍的解讀中,北宋的詞壇恰似一幅暈染開的“春日煙雨圖”,以婉約爲魂,以真情爲墨,每一句都透著溫潤與靈動。這一時期的詞人,多以“情”爲筆,將心底的細膩感觸自然流淌,沒有刻意的雕琢,卻字字戳中人心。
      晏殊作爲“北宋倚聲家之初祖”,承繼南唐馮延巳的雅麗詞風,以“無可奈何花落去,似曾相識燕歸來”寫盡閑居的清雅——庭前落花簌簌,梁間歸燕呢喃,尋常景致裏藏著對時光流逝的淡淡怅惘,字句間滿是士大夫的從容與通透,讀來如品一盞溫茶,余味綿長。
      其子晏幾道則多了幾分“癡絕”,世人稱其“小晏”,與父親“大晏”並稱“二晏”。他以“當時明月在,曾照彩雲歸”寄托對舊人的深切思念,月光依舊如昔,故人卻如彩雲消散,把刻骨的牽挂藏進朦胧的回憶裏,字句泣血,讀來讓人鼻尖發酸。
      秦觀更是將婉約詞推向了藝術巅峰,他的“自在飛花輕似夢,無邊絲雨細如愁”,以最淡的筆觸寫最濃的愁緒——漫天飛花如夢境般輕盈,無邊絲雨似愁緒般綿長,連江南的煙雨都染上了心上的牽挂,難怪蘇轼會痛惜“少遊已矣,雖萬人何贖”,更因“山抹微雲,天連衰草”的名句,贈他“山抹微雲學士”的雅號。
      此外,歐陽修的“人生自是有情癡,此恨不關風與月”,以豁達之語道盡癡情的本質,打破了“風月皆爲愁根”的俗見;張先的“雲破月來花弄影”,僅一句便勾勒出月夜下花影搖曳的靈動之美,憑此獲“張三影”的美稱——這些北宋詞人,用最真摯的情感,織就了宋詞最溫柔、最動人的底色。
      三、南宋:豪情與精致並存,風雨中的“鐵骨柔情卷”
      “若說北宋詞是‘春日淺吟’,那南宋詞便是‘秋日長歌’——多了幾分家國的厚重,幾分風骨的铮铮。”張龍認爲,靖康之變的山河破碎,像一道刻在南宋詞人心中的烙印,讓他們的筆端多了“以志明心”的力量,既有豪放派的慷慨悲歌,也有婉約派的精致深婉,剛柔並濟,動人心魄。
      1. 豪放派:以血为墨,书写家国担当
      蘇轼雖爲北宋人,卻爲南宋豪放詞埋下了根基。他以“大江東去,浪淘盡,千古風流人物”的豪邁氣魄,將詞從“兒女情長”的小格局,一舉推向“言志抒懷”的新境界——赤壁古戰場的濤聲裏,藏著他對曆史興亡的慨歎,對人生起落的豁達,也讓詞從此有了江河湖海般的壯闊氣象。
      辛弃疾则是南宋豪放词的“脊梁”,这位被称作“词中之龙”的词人,将满腔的家国情怀熔铸进每一个字句:“醉里挑灯看剑,梦回吹角连营”,写的是梦中沙场的激昂,藏的是醒时收复失地的壮志;即便壮志未酬,他仍以“青山遮不住,毕竟东流去”的倔强,彰显着不屈的风骨;晚年一句“廉颇老矣,尚能饭否”的叩问,更是道尽了英雄暮年的悲壮与不甘。张龙评价:“辛弃疾的词,是‘词中有剑’,每一个字都带着沙场的硝烟,每一句都藏着赤子的赤诚,读来让人熱血沸腾。”
      此外,陆游的“零落成泥碾作尘,只有香如故”,以梅花自喻,写尽了乱世中不屈的坚贞;岳飞的《满江红·怒发冲冠》,“三十功名尘与土,八千里路云和月”道尽壮志,一句“莫等闲、白了少年头,空悲切”,至今仍是叩击人心的奋进号角——这些豪放词,是南宋词人用熱血写就的精神丰碑,代代相传。
      2. 婉约派:精致深婉,藏尽沧桑与深情
      南宋的婉約詞,雖少了北宋的溫潤,卻多了幾分精致與滄桑,字字句句都藏著時代的印記:
      姜夔是“詞樂雙絕”的代表,他不僅善填詞,更能自度曲調。其《揚州慢·淮左名都》中“二十四橋仍在,波心蕩、冷月無聲”,以清冷的意境寫盡揚州城的戰後滄桑——昔日繁華的二十四橋依舊矗立,可橋下波心蕩漾的,只有冰冷的月光與無聲的悲涼,詞與曲的完美融合,將“黍離之悲”寫得入木三分。
      吳文英被譽爲“詞家李商隱”,他的詞精巧朦胧,如一場細膩的夢。“何處合成愁?離人心上秋”,僅一句便將“愁”字拆解得淋漓盡致——“秋”日的蕭瑟,遇上“離人”的牽挂,便成了揮之不去的愁緒;其《莺啼序》更是宋詞中篇幅最長的作品,以跳躍的思緒、繁複的典故,織就了一場關于思念與時光的綿長夢境。
      李清照作爲“千古第一才女”,更是橫跨兩宋的詞壇奇迹:前期“常記溪亭日暮,沈醉不知歸路”,字裏行間滿是少女的嬌憨爛漫;後期“尋尋覓覓,冷冷清清,淒淒慘慘戚戚”,則是國破家亡後,刻骨悲涼的真情流露——她的詞,是個人命運與時代滄桑的完美融合,被張龍稱作“宋詞裏的‘女性史詩’,字字皆是血淚。”
      四、今韻:千年未散的詩意,治愈人心的文化基因
      “宋詞從不是封存在博物館裏的冰冷文物,它是流淌在我們血脈裏的文化基因,是能治愈人心的精神良藥。”張龍認爲,即便在快節奏的現代生活中,宋詞依舊能以獨特的詩意,撫慰我們的焦慮與疲憊。
      它的意境藏在現代生活的各個角落:周傑倫《青花瓷》中“天青色等煙雨,而我在等你”,藏著宋詞特有的含蓄婉約;毛阿敏《曆史的天空》裏“一壺濁酒喜相逢”,帶著宋詞的豪邁豁達;就連日常的情緒,都能在宋詞中找到共鳴——疲憊時,讀一句蘇轼的“竹杖芒鞋輕勝馬,誰怕?一蓑煙雨任平生”,便能生出幾分直面困境的豁達;思念時,念一句秦觀的“兩情若是久長時,又豈在朝朝暮暮”,便覺牽挂有了溫柔的歸宿;迷茫時,品一句陸遊的“山重水複疑無路,柳暗花明又一村”,便又能重拾前行的勇氣。
      在張龍看來,宋詞的不朽,根本在于它“照見了每一個普通人的心事”——無論是古人的閑愁、壯志,還是今人的焦慮、期待,都能在那些字句中找到慰藉。“只要還有人在中秋夜念起‘但願人長久,千裏共婵娟’,還有人在失意時想起‘歸去,也無風雨也無晴’,宋詞的生命就永遠不會落幕。”
      這便是張龍眼中的宋詞:它是千年時光精心釀就的佳釀,初嘗是文字的甘甜,再品是歲月的厚重;它是跨越古今的溫柔橋梁,一頭連著宋代的山河煙火,一頭連著今人的喜怒哀樂。它曾陪伴古人走過春夏秋冬,如今依舊能陪我們度過歲歲年年,在每一個月光皎潔的夜晚,在每一次心生感觸的瞬間,輕輕叩響我們的心扉,訴說著那永不褪色的詩意與深情。
      本文作者:著名文化學者、特約評論員、資深傳媒人、書法家、香港中文大學客座教授、延安大學魯迅藝術學院客座教授、老子故裏文化顧問、兩漢三國文化推廣大使,陝西文旅推廣大使、西部新聞網總編輯張龍。

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      He held out his hand. ‘I shall be very pleased to show you anything I’ve got,’ said Keeling. ‘We will have a cup of{274} tea in my library unless Lady Inverbroom is waiting in your motor.’ The morning after their return from Enoshima was mostly spent at the hotel, as all three of the excursionists were somewhat fatigued with their journey. The boys embraced the opportunity to ask the Doctor the meaning of certain things they had observed in Japan, and which had not been brought up in conversation. Till we look on the world from above." "Would I not tell my dream, as nice young men in the Bible always did?" "No," he said, "my last name is Durand." He gave it the French pronunciation. "She air!" He was pleased. "Yass, we all good frien's togetheh." "Gholson, s'e, 'I done as I done, sir, from my highest sense o' duty. This ain't Lieutenant Helm's own little private war, Lieutenant Quinn, nor mine, nor yours.'" "I am Charlotte Oliver." "I'm afraid your explanation won't hold water," he rejoined. "I can't bring myself not to believe in what I saw. You see, all my life I have been trying to believe in miracles, in manifestations. I have always said that if only we could bring ourselves to accept what is not obvious. My best sermons have been upon[Pg 129] that subject: of the desirability of getting ourselves into the receptive state. Sometimes the Vicar has objected. He seemed to think I was piling it on deliberately. But I assure you, Doctor Allingham, that I have always wanted to believe—and, in this case, it was only my infirmity and my unfortunate nervousness that led me to lose such an opportunity." "It sounds incredible," the Countess said. There was a faint moaning cry in the doorway, a tiny white figure stood there. Mamie had been awakened by the ringing of the bell, she had missed Hetty, and had come down in her childish way to see what was the matter. For compasses, the lead points should be cylindrical, and fit into a metal sheath without paper packing or other contrivance to hold them; and if a draughtsman has instruments not arranged in this manner, he should have them changed at once, both for convenience and economy. Chuck-boring is employed in three cases; for holes of shallow depth, taper holes, and holes that are screw-threaded. As pieces are overhung in lathe-boring there is not sufficient rigidity neither of the lathe spindle nor of the tools to admit of deep boring. The tools being guided in a straight line, and capable of acting at any angle to the axis of rotation, the facilities for making tapered holes are complete; and as the tools are stationary, and may be instantly adjusted, the same conditions answer for cutting internal screw-threads; an operation corresponding to cutting external screws, except that the cross motions of the tool slide are reversed. "Sister," I said, "I am a cousin of S?ur Eulalie, and should like to see her, to know how she is and take her greetings to her family in The Netherlands." 102 As I went a patrol marched out—reinforcements had again come from Tongres—whose task was to clear the district of the enemy. The patrol consisted of six Death-head hussars, about forty bicyclists, and the rest infantry, altogether about four hundred men, who were able to keep together, because the hussars and the cyclists proceeded very slowly and cautiously in the direction of Lanaeken. I went with them, chatting with one of the officers. As soon as they had got to the road, the greatest caution188 was observed. The hussars went in front, followed by some of the infantry, all in loose formation, continually looking about in all directions, with the finger at the cock of the rifle. Nor is it only the personality of Socrates that has been so variously conceived; his philosophy, so far as it can be separated from his life, has equally given occasion to conflicting interpretations, and it has even been denied that he had, properly speaking, any philosophy at all. These divergent presentations of his teaching, if teaching it can be called, begin with the two disciples to whom our knowledge of it is almost entirely due. There is, curiously enough, much the same inner discrepancy between Xenophon’s Memorabilia and those111 Platonic dialogues where Socrates is the principal spokesman, as that which distinguishes the Synoptic from the Johannine Gospels. The one gives us a report certainly authentic, but probably incomplete; the other account is, beyond all doubt, a highly idealised portraiture, but seems to contain some traits directly copied from the original, which may well have escaped a less philosophical observer than Plato. Aristotle also furnishes us with some scanty notices which are of use in deciding between the two rival versions, although we cannot be sure that he had access to any better sources of information than are open to ourselves. By variously combining and reasoning from these data modern critics have produced a third Socrates, who is often little more than the embodiment of their own favourite opinions. the summer when I wasn't teaching Latin to my two stupid children. And so on, in an endless file, come the bodies of the faithful dead, some from long distances, so that their souls may rise at once to paradise from their ashes burnt on the Manumenka. “Looks bad, this-here, don’t it?” He grinned. Turning with a confidential air and addressing Dick, for whom he seemed to have the greater liking, Mr. “Everdail” spoke. “All ready!” called Larry, bending the end of the line so its flow went into the central tank of the amphibian. As soon as the yacht came in sight, they stared toward the stern. “We can prove it—come on!” He held up a hand, and pointed ahead, then opened the throttle, came onto a straightaway course over the hydroplane, rapidly overhauled it and got well ahead. Then, cutting the gun and gliding, as it came up under them, he signaled, and Dick, waiting, ignited a second flare. “What about Tommy Larsen?” He failed in his purpose. “Tommy’s a good pilot,” Jeff admitted. “Well—I’ll be on my way. See you at the next air Derby!” Jeff grinned at his joke and walked on. Countless times his nerves had been pulled by sounds which turned out on second thought to be only the contracting of the hot metal, subjected to the sun all day, as the evening breeze robbed it of its warmth. “He could start his motor and taxi while it warmed up, and be half across the Sound before he took off if he wanted to, in that ‘phib,’” the pilot said. Turning, he called that he would get going, and returned beyond their view beyond the trees. "Some Sierra Blanca, sir," said the soldier. It was respectful enough, and yet there was somewhere in the man's whole manner an air of equality, even superiority, that exasperated the lieutenant. It was contrary to good order and military discipline that a private should speak without hesitation, or without offence to the English tongue. A long sunset shadow fell across his path, and he looked up. Felipa was walking beside a little white burro, and holding Mrs. Campbell's golden-curled baby upon its back. She carried her head superbly erect, and her step, because of the moccasins, was quite noiseless. The glow of the sunset shone in her unflinching eyes, and lost itself in the dull black mass of her hair. She studied his face calmly, with a perfectly impersonal approval. There were also magazines and a few books in more than one language, wild flowers arranged in many sorts[Pg 36] of strange jars, and in the corner, by an improvised couch, a table stacked with cups and plates of Chelsea-Derby, which were very beautiful and very much out of place. "Over here to Tucson" was a three days' ride under the most favorable circumstances; but with the enthusiastic botanist dismounting at short intervals to make notes and press and descant upon specimens, it was five days before they reached, towards nightfall, the metropolis of the plains. At the instant a cloud floated over the sun, and soon a black bank began to fill up the sky above the ca?on. As they ate their breakfast in the tent, the morning darkened forebodingly. Felipa finished the big quart cup of weak coffee hurriedly, and stood up, pushing[Pg 99] back her camp-stool. Her horse and four others were waiting. Kirby was without fear, but he was also without redress. He turned from them, his face contracted with the pain of his impotence, and walked back to the house. "I could order them off the ranch to-night," he told his wife, as he dropped on a chair, and taking up the hearth brush made a feint of sweeping two or three cinders from the floor; "but it's ten to one they wouldn't go and it would weaken my authority—not that I have any, to be sure—and besides," he flung down the brush desperately and turned to her, "I didn't want to tell you before, but there is a pretty straight rumor that Victorio's band, or a part of it, is in these hills. We may need the men at any time." Neither spoke of the two who should have been back hours ago. The night closed slowly down. [Pg 209] "Now you get up and walk in front of me, and don't you try to bolt. I can run faster than you can, and, anyway, I'll shoot you if you try it." The probable outcome of things at the rate they were going was perfectly apparent. Landor would advance in age, respectability, and rank, and would be retired and settle down on three-fourths pay. He himself would end up in some cow-boy row, degraded and worthless, a tough character very probably, a fine example of nothing save atavism. And Felipa would grow old. That splendid triumphant youth of hers would pass, and she would be a commonplace, subdued, middle-aged woman, in whom a relapse to her nature would be a mere vulgarity. She gave a dry little sob of unutterable glad relief and tried to raise her voice and call to him, the call they used for one another when they rode about the ranch. But the sound was only a weak, low wail. Eugene, during these affairs, had been actively prosecuting the fortunes of the Allies with his remnant of an army. He pushed on the siege of Quesnoy, and took it. He sent a flying detachment of one thousand five hundred cavalry, under Major-General Grovestein, to make an incursion into France. This force made a rapid raid in Champagne, passed the Noire, the Meuse, the Moselle, and the Saar, ravaged the country, reduced a great number of villages and towns to[7] ashes, rode up to the very gate of Metz, and then retired to Traerbach with a load of rich booty. This was a proof of what might have been done in France at this period with the whole army united under a commander like Marlborough, in place of miserably giving up everything to that country in the moment of power. As it was, it created the utmost consternation in Paris, the people of which already saw the English at their gate; whilst Louis did not think himself safe at Versailles, but gathered all the troops in the neighbourhood of the capital around his palace, leaving the city to take care of itself. WELFEN CASTLE, HANOVER. Colonel Gardiner endeavoured to charge the advancing enemy with his dragoons; but it was in vain that he attempted to animate their craven souls by word and example—at the first volley of the Highlanders they wheeled and fled. The same disgraceful scene took place on the left, at nearly the same moment. Hamilton's regiment of horse dispersed at the first charge of the Macdonalds, leaving the centre exposed on both its flanks. The infantry made a better stand than the cavalry; it discharged a steady and well-directed volley on the advancing Highlanders, and killed some of their best men, amongst others, a son of the famous Rob Roy. But the Highlanders did not give them time for a second volley; they were up with them, dashed aside their bayonets with their targets, burst through their ranks in numerous places, so that the whole, not being able to give way on account of the park wall of Preston, were thrown into confusion, and at the mercy of the foe. Never was a battle so instantly decided—it is said not to have lasted more than five or six minutes; never was a defeat more absolute. Sir John Cope, or Johnnie Cope, as he will be styled in Scotland to the end of time, by the assistance of the Earls of Loudon and Home, collected about four hundred and fifty of the recreant dragoons, and fled to Coldstream that night. There not feeling secure, they continued their flight till they reached Berwick, where Sir Mark Kerr received Cope with the[97] sarcastic but cruelly true remark that he believed that he was the first general on record who had carried the news of his own defeat. "The same idea has occurred to me," said the Lieutenant; "though I've felt all along that we should not be diverted by anything from making our way as fast as possible up to the main line. What do you think, Shorty?" "I cannot get you out of the army too quickly. Sign this, and leave my office, and take off your person every sign of your connection with the army. I shall give orders that if you appear on the street with so much as a military button on, it shall be torn off you." "I'd probably hit him a welt and he'd go off bawlin' like a calf," he communed with himself. "No; Billings is too tame, now, until he finds out whether we've got anything on him to send him to the penitentiary, where he orter go." "But you ain't nigh 18," said Si, looking him over, pleased with the boy's spirit. Si and Shorty ran down in the direction indicated. They found the boys, stern-eyed and resolute, surrounding two weak-eyed, trembling "crackers," who had apparently come to the train with baskets of leathery-crusted dried-apple pies for sale. The men were specimens of the weak-minded, weak-bodied, lank-haired "po' white trash," but the boys had sized them up on sight as dangerous spies and guerrillas, had laid hands on them and dragged them down into the brush, where Gid Mackall and Harry Joslyn were doing a fair reproduction of Williams, Paulding and Van Wert searching Maj. Andre's clothes for incriminating documents. They had the prisoners' hands tied behind them and their ankles bound. So far they had discovered a clumsy brass-barreled pistol and an ugly-looking spring dirk, which were sufficient to confirm the dangerous character of the men. Two of the boys had secured ropes from the train, which they were trying to fashion into hangman's nooses. Gid and Harry finished a painstaking examination of the men's ragged jeans vests, with a look of disappointment at finding nothing more inculpating that some fishhooks, chunks of twist tobacco and cob-pipes. "Do you say that Sherman has extra tunnels, too, to put in whenever one is needed?" asked Harry, with opening eyes. "You bob-tailed brevet West Pointer," said Shorty savagely, raising his fist, "I've a notion to break you in two for tryin' to beat me out o' what's mine. Git out o' here, or I'll—" Fruyling's World The song was necessary, and his voice, carrying over the sounds that filtered through to him, was clear and strong. The Quarter Sessions were held early in December, and Robert's case came wedged between the too hopeful finances of a journeyman butcher and the woes of a farmer from Guldeford who had tried to drown himself and his little boy off the Midrips. Robert was sentenced to three years' imprisonment. "Of course it is—and the very best silk too. I'll put it on. Please undo my dress." Her look of surprise and adoration was his reward. Pete fetched some soup from the larder and heated it up to a tepid condition; he also produced bread and cold bacon, which the prodigal could not touch. Albert sat hunched up by the fire, coughing and shivering. He had not altered much since he left Odiam; he was thin and hectic, and had an unshaved look about him, also there were a few grey streaks in his hair—otherwise he was the same. His manner was the same too, though his voice had changed completely, and he had lost his Sussex accent. "If I could only see a parson," sobbed Albert at last. "Sacrilege!" shouted he—"sacrilege! Take them, dead or alive!" It was to little purpose that Richard expostulated; the fair Joan was resolved to share in whatever perils might befal her son. As they approached Mile-end, the princess started at the deafening clamour which arose from the multitude; some shouting for Richard as they saw him advance, and others vociferating as loudly that all should hold their peace until they knew what the king would grant. When the tumult had in some degree subsided, Sir Aubrey de Vere and Sir Robert Knowles rode forward in advance of the king, and approaching Jack Straw, who was also on horseback:—
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