翻刻
中秋同＿二子寿九万＿一遊＿二墨水＿一二首
世事悠悠無＿レ可＿レ愁（○）又逢＿二良夜＿一趂＿二清｜遊（○）＿一買（●）＿二-将美酒（●●●）＿一盈（●）＿二蛮榼（●○）＿一
載（●）＿二-得紅裙（●●●）＿一有（●）＿二小舟（●○）＿一湖上青山千里夢城東明月七年秋（●●●●●●○●●●●●●○）
擬＿下図＿二佳景＿一誇＿中郷｜友（○）＿上画手尋常写到｜不（○）
一道金波万里｜風（○）楼頭賞更勝＿二舟｜中（○）＿一潮来蘆渚秋声｜起（○）
雲断江天夜色｜空（○）佳麗何唯鄂州地歌詞独愧（●●●●●●○●●●●）＿二石湖翁（●●○）＿一
誰知詩酒留連｜客（○）便与＿二神仙＿一清福｜同（○）
舒公平生稿本為祝融氏所条盪二十年苦心
一朝為烏有易地以思誰能無愴然於中乎頼
有記憶者今将雕而存之崑山炎餘之片玉洵
可貴重也
安政戊午除夕前一日鷲津宣妄評僭批
現代語訳
【中秋に子寿・九万と共に墨水に遊ぶ、二首】
（第一首）
世事は悠々として愁うべきことなく、
また良き夜に逢い、清遊を楽しむ。
美酒を買い求めて、蛮榼（ばんかつ）に満たし、
紅裙（こうくん）の佳人を乗せて、小舟あり。
湖上の青山は千里の夢、
城東の明月は七年の秋。
佳景を図に描いて郷の友に誇らんと擬すれど、
画の腕は尋常にして、到底写し得ず。
（第二首）
一道の金波に万里の風、
楼頭の賞は舟中に勝る。
潮来たりて蘆の渚に秋声起こり、
雲断ちて江天に夜色空し。
佳麗なること何ぞ独り鄂州の地のみならんや、
歌詞は独り石湖翁に愧ず。
誰か知らん、詩酒に留連する客が、
すなわち神仙と清福を同じうすることを。
---
【序文】
舒公（じょこう）の平生の稿本は、祝融氏（かじ）のために条盪（じょうとう）され、二十年の苦心が一朝にして烏有に帰した。地を易えて思えば、誰か中に愴然たるものなかろうや。幸いにも記憶している者があり、今まさにこれを雕（きざ）んで存（のこ）さんとす。崑山炎餘の片玉、洵（まこと）に貴重とすべきなり。
安政戊午（つちのえうま）、除夕の前一日、鷲津宣、妄りに評し、僭（せん）して批す。
英語訳
**Mid-Autumn Festival: Two Poems on an Excursion to Bokusuui (the Sumida River) with Shiju and Kyūman**
*(First Poem)*
The affairs of the world drift on endlessly — there is nothing to grieve;
Again we meet on a fine night, to enjoy a leisurely outing.
We purchase fine wine and fill the barbarian flasks to the brim,
And with red-skirted beauties aboard, there is a little boat.
The green mountains over the lake — a dream spanning a thousand li;
The bright moon east of the city — the autumn of seven years.
I had thought to capture this splendid scene in a painting to show friends back home,
But my painter's hand is ordinary and cannot do it justice.
*(Second Poem)*
A single path of golden waves, a wind spanning ten thousand li;
The view from the tower-top surpasses even that from the boat.
The tide comes in; at the reed-lined shore, the sounds of autumn arise;
Clouds part; over the river and sky, the colors of night hang empty.
How could beauty and elegance belong only to the land of Ezhou (Wuhan)?
For my song-lyrics, I alone feel ashamed before the Old Man of Shihu (Fan Chengda).
Who would have known that the traveler lingering over poetry and wine
Should share the same pure blessings as the immortals?
---
**Preface**
The manuscripts that Shū-kō (the gentleman referred to as "Shu") had compiled throughout his life were swept away by the fire god (Zhurong), and twenty years of painstaking effort were reduced to nothing in a single morning. If one were to imagine oneself in his place, who could fail to feel a deep sense of grief? Fortunately, there are those who retain the poems in memory, and they are now to be carved and preserved. These are fragments of jade recovered from the flames of Kunshan — truly precious things worthy of the highest regard.
On the day before New Year's Eve, in the year of Ansei Tsuchinoe-Uma (1858), Washizu Sen [Nobun] recklessly offers his comments and presumptuously appends his critique.