一棹辭岸 · One Oar-stroke Leaving the Shore

An original 古風 song for day twenty-four — a wandering scholar at dusk pushes his small boat off from the stone landing and crosses into the river mist. He is the one leaving, not the one left behind. The lantern on the shore is still lit; it grows smaller and smaller behind him as he rows deeper into the fog. He never shouts farewell — the river wind would take it anyway. In the bridge, he remembers: he once stood on this same bank and lit a lantern to wait for someone else. Now he is the one who rows away into the dark. Sheng leads with resonant reed-chord clusters carrying both warmth and irreversible departure; guqin holds the undertone, erhu traces the interior ache of the departing heart. Literary Chinese. Theme: farewell journeys (round 5).

引子 暮色壓蘆葦 一棹橫秋水 岸燈猶點點 不敢回首視

主歌一 竹篙離石埠 水紋散舊渡 幾聲蒼鷺鳴 人已在煙渚 袖中握一函 未寄便成故

主歌二 岸柳垂殘綠 夕陽斜金縷 回望燈一盞 漸遠漸模糊 此去山水長 何日是歸處

副歌 一棹辭岸去 燈火隔江渚 人在舟中坐 心留岸上住 江霧起無聲 吞卻千言苦 棹聲入夜深 燈滅燈未滅

主歌三 蘆花飛過舟 秋風冷如許 回頭山已小 前路雲更阻 搖槳問江月 月色也無語

副歌 一棹辭岸去 燈火隔江渚 人在舟中坐 心留岸上住 江霧起無聲 吞卻千言苦 棹聲入夜深 燈滅燈未滅

橋段 曾在此岸燒燈待月 今在此舟向霧而行 一聲呼喚散於江風 應聲之人已不可聞

尾聲 棹聲漸沉 燈已過灣 天色向晚 山河兩岸 此去茫茫 燈影猶燦