---
title: "平山堂圖志 · 秋日，郡中諸友招飲平山堂舊址，因議修復，分得寒字，賦成二十韻"
description: "平山堂圖志由清代趙之璧編撰，是一部記錄江蘇揚州平山堂及周邊佛教景觀的專志。該書成於乾隆時期，詳載平山堂的歷史沿革、建築布局、文物古蹟及相關詩文軼事。內容融合佛教寺院與文人雅集傳統，展現清代江南佛教與文化的交融。作為地方佛教史志的重要文獻，它為研究清代佛教建築、地域文化及士人佛教信仰提供了珍貴史料，在佛教地理志中具有獨特地位。"
url: "https://rushiwowen.co/en/r/cmgn4aphs0trdk10492fc8qjz"
---

### 秋日，郡中諸友招飲平山堂舊址，因議修復，分得寒字，賦成二十韻

> Autumn Day: Friends in the Prefecture Invite Me to Drink at the Former Site of Pingshan Hall, Where We Discuss Its Restoration. Drawing the Character "Cold," I Compose a Poem in Twenty Rhyming Couplets

金鎮

> Golden Needle

白露戒素節　凉風動輕紈感此君子心　攜手共盤桓弭節泊枉渚　列筵面層巒芙蕖發朱花　離披香未殘葭菼依岸生　簌簌驚秋寒杖策入烟徑　堆阜列巑岏日落禪智塔　草深蜀井榦上方益聳秀　朱堂吐納寬平鋪出峽水　仰視隔江山淮岑萬疉來青影落杯盤頗憶小蘇句　千里對平欄其時拭遺墨　流涕增汍瀾奈何彈指頃　轉為緇素蟠而我承餘芬　輟食空三歎甘棠藹遺蔭　剝復理必還茲事如有待　斯遊豈無端極目眄江海　氛祲氣漫漫吾土雖云樂　輸將恐已殫夕陽帶歸舟　荷鋤夾道觀所期閭里宴　日夕相追歡

> White dew brings the season of restraint, Cool breezes stir the light silk fan. Moved by this noble heart, We join hands and linger together. We tether our boat by the winding shore, Set a feast before layered peaks. Lotus blossoms unfold their crimson petals, Scattered yet their fragrance lingers still. Reeds grow along the banks, Rustling, startled by autumn's chill. Staff in hand, we enter the misty path, Hills rise in rugged array. The sun sets behind the Chan Wisdom Pagoda, Deep grass surrounds the ancient Shu well. The temple heights grow even more sublime, The crimson hall opens wide in welcome. Flat waters spread where the gorge meets the river, We look up at mountains beyond the stream. A thousand ridges of the Huai peaks, Cast their green shadows into our cups and plates. I recall young Su's words, "A thousand miles facing the railing." At that time we wiped the old ink, Tears flowed, swelling into waves. How quickly the finger-snap passes, Turning all into monks and layfolk alike. Yet I inherit the remaining fragrance, Pausing my meal with three deep sighs. The sweet pear tree spreads its shade, What falls must return again. If this matter awaits its time, How could this journey lack a cause? Gazing far to rivers and seas, Mists of turmoil stretch endlessly. Though my homeland may be pleasant, Its resources drain toward exhaustion. The setting sun brings homebound boats, People with hoes line the roads to watch. What I hope for is a village feast, Where day and night we chase shared joy.