I came across this song about playing a game today, and I thought it would be fun to have a place to share music about or inspired by Go.
HITA 《松窗棋罢》
Chinese Lyrics
曾记当年对局方
竹影摇映小轩窗
拂袖两奁收阴阳
轻敲玉子声琅琅
心寂如茶静自香
何时纹枰却作名利场
黑白翻覆于股掌
一朝平步入朝堂
怎容棋道渐沦亡
看此番君子行藏
正气清扬
一黑一白, 一来一往,世事俱苍黄
此起彼落,此消彼长,烂斧几寒芳
方圆乾坤万象
看透百态炎凉
不如低吟归去兮,风清月朗
行乎当行,止乎当止,闲云天地旷
流水不争,万物无竞,坐隐两相忘
白露滴闻清响
竹叶落带新霜
悠然处,松窗棋罢指犹凉
曾记当年对局方
竹影摇映小轩窗
拂袖两奁收阴阳
轻敲玉子声琅琅
心寂如茶静自香
何时纹枰却作名利场
黑白翻覆于股掌
一朝平步入朝堂
怎容棋道渐沦亡
看此番君子行藏
正气清扬
一黑一白,一来一往,世事俱苍黄
此起彼落,此消彼长,烂斧几寒芳
方圆乾坤万象
看透百态炎凉
不如低吟归去兮,风清月朗
行乎当行,止乎当止,闲云天地旷
流水不争,万物无竞,坐隐两相忘
白露滴闻清响
竹叶落带新霜
悠然处,松窗棋罢指犹凉
English Translation
Lyrics translation by renn at www.onehallyu.com
After finishing a game of weiqi by a window near the pines
still remember the room in which [we] played the game that year.
The swaying shadows of the bamboos were cast upon the small window.
[With] a swish of the sleeve, yin and yang were collected in [those] two boxes.
The sound of the jade stones knocking lightly [against the board] tinkled brightly.
[My] heart was as quiet as the tea so the silence naturally gave off a fragrance.
Since when has the game board served as a place to contend for personal fame and gain?
The black and the white flip under one’s complete control
There comes a day when one enters the imperial court with ease.
How can one tolerate the gradual perishment of the way of weiqi?
Watch this time a noble man’s conduct,
Righteousness clear and raised high.
One black [stone], one white [stone], back and forth—all affairs of the world become sallow.
This rises and that falls, this wanes and that waxes—how many cycles of the seasons have passed that [the handle of] the axe has rotten away?
The state of all things, the heaven and the earth, every manifestation of nature;
have seen through the different expressions and the hypocrisies [of the world].
It is better to softly chant [a poem of] returning home, [remaining] noble in character.
Move when it’s time to move, halt when it’s time to halt —the clouds are idle, the sky and the earth vast.
The flowing water does not vie, all things of this world do not contend—when playing weiqi, [we] forget each other['s existence].
[When] the white dew of autumn drips, one hears a crisp sound.
[When] the bamboo leaves fall, they carry with them fresh frost.
In a distant place of contentment, after finishing a game of weiqi by a window near the pines, [my] fingers still feel cool.