杜甫　韦讽录事宅观曹将军画马图 A DRAWING OF A HORSE BY GENERAL CAO
AT SECRETARY WEI FENG'S HOUSE
国初以来画鞍马
神妙独数江都王
将军得名三十载
人间又见真乘黄
曾貌先帝照夜白
龙池十日飞霹雳
内府殷红玛瑙盘
婕妤传诏才人索
盘赐将军拜舞归
轻纨细绮相追飞
贵戚权门得笔迹
始觉屏障生光辉
昔日太宗拳毛 [马呙]
近时郭家狮子花
今之新图有二马
复令识者久叹嗟
此皆骑战一敌万
缟素漠漠开风沙
其馀七匹亦殊绝
迥若寒空杂烟雪
霜蹄蹴踏长楸间
马官厮养森成列
可怜九马争神骏
顾视清高气深稳
借问苦心爱者谁
後有韦讽前支盾
忆昔巡幸新丰宫
翠花拂天来向东
腾骧磊落三万匹
皆与此图筋骨同
自从献宝朝河宗
无复射蛟江水中
君不见
金粟堆前松柏里
龙媒去尽鸟呼风
Throughout this dynasty no one had painted horses
Like the master-spirit, Prince Jiangdu --
And then to General Cao through his thirty years of fame
The world's gaze turned, for royal steeds.
He painted the late Emperor's luminous white horse.
For ten days the thunder flew over Dragon Lake,
And a pink-agate plate was sent him from the palace-
The talk of the court-ladies, the marvel of all eyes.
The General danced, receiving it in his honoured home
After this rare gift, followed rapidly fine silks
From many of the nobles, requesting that his art
Lend a new lustre to their screens.
...First came the curly-maned horse of Emperor Taizong,
Then, for the Guos, a lion-spotted horse....
But now in this painting I see two horses,
A sobering sight for whosoever knew them.
They are war- horses. Either could face ten thousand.
They make the white silk stretch away into a vast desert.
And the seven others with them are almost as noble
Mist and snow are moving across a cold sky,
And hoofs are cleaving snow-drifts under great trees-
With here a group of officers and there a group of servants.
See how these nine horses all vie with one another-
The high clear glance, the deep firm breath.
...Who understands distinction? Who really cares for art?
You, Wei Feng, have followed Cao; Zhidun preceded him.
...I remember when the late Emperor came toward his Summer Palace,
The procession, in green-feathered rows, swept from the eastern sky --
Thirty thousand horses, prancing, galloping,
Fashioned, every one of them, like the horses in this picture....
But now the Imperial Ghost receives secret jade from the River God,
For the Emperor hunts crocodiles no longer by the streams.
Where you see his Great Gold Tomb, you may hear among the pines
A bird grieving in the wind that the Emperor's horses are gone.

杜甫　丹青引赠曹霸将军 A SONG OF A PAINTING TO GENERAL CAO
将军魏武之子孙
於今为庶为青门
英雄割据虽已矣
文采风流今尚存
学书初学卫夫人
但恨无过王右军
丹青不知老将至
富贵於我如浮云
开元之中常引见
承恩数上南熏殿
凌烟功臣少颜色
将军下笔开生面
良相头上进贤冠
猛将腰间大羽箭
褒公鄂公毛发动
英姿飒爽犹酣战
先帝天马玉花骢
画工如山貌不同
是日牵来赤墀下
迥立阊阖生长风
诏谓将军拂绢素
意匠惨淡经营中
斯须九重真龙出
一洗万古凡马空
玉花却在御榻上
榻上庭前屹相向
至尊含笑催赐金
圉人太仆皆惆怅
弟子韩干早入室
亦能画马穷殊相
干惟画肉不画骨
忍使骅骝气凋丧
将军画善盖有神
偶逢佳士亦写真
即今漂泊干戈际
屡貌寻常行路人
涂穷反遭俗眼白
世上未有如公贫
但看古来盛名下
终日坎 [土禀] 缠其身
A General, descended from Wei's Emperor Wu,
You are nobler now than when a noble....
Conquerors and their valour perish,
But masters of beauty live forever.
...With your brush-work learned from Lady Wei
And second only to Wang Xizhi's,
Faithful to your art, you know no age,
Letting wealth and fame drift by like clouds.
...In the years of Kaiyuan you were much with the Emperor,
Accompanied him often to the Court of the South Wind.
When the spirit left great statesmen, on walls of the Hall of Fame
The point of your brush preserved their living faces.
You crowned all the premiers with coronets of office;
You fitted all commanders with arrows at their girdles;
You made the founders of this dynasty, with every hair alive,
Seem to be just back from the fierceness of a battle.
...The late Emperor had a horse, known as Jade Flower,
Whom artists had copied in various poses.
They led him one day to the red marble stairs
With his eyes toward the palace in the deepening air.
Then, General, commanded to proceed with your work,
You centred all your being on a piece of silk.
And later, when your dragon-horse, born of the sky,
Had banished earthly horses for ten thousand generations,
There was one Jade Flower standing on the dais
And another by the steps, and they marvelled at each other....
The Emperor rewarded you with smiles and with gifts,
While officers and men of the stud hung about and stared.
...Han Gan, your follower, has likewise grown proficient
At representing horses in all their attitudes;
But picturing the flesh, he fails to draw the bone-
So that even the finest are deprived of their spirit.
You, beyond the mere skill, used your art divinely-
And expressed, not only horses, but the life of a good man....
Yet here you are, wandering in a world of disorder
And sketching from time to time some petty passerby
People note your case with the whites of their eyes.
There's nobody purer, there's nobody poorer.
...Read in the records, from earliest times,
How hard it is to be a great artist.

杜甫　寄韩谏议... A LETTER TO CENSOR HAN
今我不乐思岳阳
身欲奋飞病在床
美人娟娟隔秋水
濯足洞庭望八荒
鸿飞冥冥日月白
青枫叶赤天雨霜
玉京群帝集北斗
或骑麒麟翳凤凰
芙蓉旌旗烟雾落
影动倒景摇潇湘
星宫之君醉琼浆
羽人稀少不在旁
似闻昨者赤松子
恐是汉代韩张良
昔随刘氏定长安
帷幄未改神惨伤
国家成败吾岂敢
色难腥腐餐枫香
周南留滞古所惜
南极老人应寿昌
美人胡为隔秋水
焉得置之贡玉堂
I am sad. My thoughts are in Youzhou.
I would hurry there-but I am sick in bed.
...Beauty would be facing me across the autumn waters.
Oh, to wash my feet in Lake Dongting and see at its eight corners
Wildgeese flying high, sun and moon both white,
Green maples changing to red in the frosty sky,
Angels bound for the Capital of Heaven, near the North Star,
Riding, some of them phrenixes, and others unicorns,
With banners of hibiscus and with melodies of mist,
Their shadows dancing upside-down in the southern rivers,
Till the Queen of the Stars, drowsy with her nectar,
Would forget the winged men on either side of her!
...From the Wizard of the Red Pine this word has come for me:
That after his earlier follower he has now a new disciple
Who, formerly at the capital as Emperor Liu's adviser,
In spite of great successes, never could be happy.
...What are a country's rise and fall?
Can flesh-pots be as fragrant as mountain fruit?....
I grieve that he is lost far away in the south.
May the star of long life accord him its blessing!
...O purity, to seize you from beyond the autumn waters
And to place you as an offering in the Court of Imperial Jade.

杜甫　古柏行 A SONG OF AN OLD CYPRESS
孔明庙前有老柏
柯如青铜根如石
双皮溜雨四十围
黛色参天二千尺
君臣已与时际会
树木犹为人爱惜
云来气接巫峡长
月出寒通雪山白
忆昨路绕锦亭东
先主武侯同 [门必]宫
崔嵬枝干郊原古
窈窕丹青户牖空
落落盘踞虽得地
冥冥孤高多烈风
扶持自是神明力
正直元因造化功
大厦如倾要梁栋
万牛回首丘山重
不露文章世已惊
未辞剪伐谁能送
苦心岂免容蝼蚁
香叶终经宿鸾凤
志士幽人莫怨嗟
古来材大难为用
Beside the Temple of the Great Premier stands an ancient cypress
With a trunk of green bronze and a root of stone.
The girth of its white bark would be the reach of forty men
And its tip of kingfish-blue is two thousand feet in heaven.
Dating from the days of a great ruler's great statesman,
Their very tree is loved now and honoured by the people.
Clouds come to it from far away, from the Wu cliffs,
And the cold moon glistens on its peak of snow.
...East of the Silk Pavilion yesterday I found
The ancient ruler and wise statesman both worshipped in one temple,
Whose tree, with curious branches, ages the whole landscape
In spite of the fresh colours of the windows and the doors.
And so firm is the deep root, so established underground,
That its lone lofty boughs can dare the weight of winds,
Its only protection the Heavenly Power,
Its only endurance the art of its Creator.
Though oxen sway ten thousand heads, they cannot move a mountain.
...When beams are required to restore a great house,
Though a tree writes no memorial, yet people understand
That not unless they fell it can use be made of it....
Its bitter heart may be tenanted now by black and white ants,
But its odorous leaves were once the nest of phoenixes and pheasants.
...Let wise and hopeful men harbour no complaint.
The greater the timber, the tougher it is to use.

杜甫　观公孙大娘弟子舞剑器行并序 A SONG OF DAGGER-DANCING TO A GIRL-PUPIL
OF LADY GONGSUN
大历二年十月十九日夔府别驾元持宅见临颍李十二娘舞剑器，壮其蔚 [足支] 。问其所师，曰∶
余公孙大娘弟子也。开元三载，余尚童稚，记於郾城观公孙氏舞剑器浑脱。浏漓顿挫，独出冠时。
自高头宜春梨园二伎坊内人，洎外供奉，晓是舞者，圣文神武皇帝初，公孙一人而已。玉貌锦衣，
况余白首！今兹弟子亦匪盛颜。既辨其由来，知波澜莫二。抚事慷慨，聊为剑器行。昔者吴人张
旭善草书书帖，数尝於邺县见公孙大娘舞西河剑器，自此草书长进，豪荡感激。即公孙可知矣！
On the 19th of the Tenth-month in the second year of Dali, I saw, in the house
of the Kueifu official Yuante, a girl named Li from Lingying dancing with a
dagger. I admired her skill and asked who was her teacher. She named Lady
Gongsun. I remembered that in the third year of Kaiyuan at Yancheng, when I
was a little boy, I saw Lady Gongsun dance. She was the only one in the
Imperial Theatre who could dance with this weapon. Now she is aged and unknown,
and even her pupil has passed the heyday of beauty. I wrote this poem to
express my wistfulness. The work of Zhang Xu of the Wu district, that great
master of grassy writing, was improved by his having been present when Lady
Gongsun danced in the Yeh district. From this may be judged the art of Gongsun.
昔有佳人公孙氏
一舞剑器动四方
观者如山色沮丧
天地为之久低昂
霍如羿射九日落
矫如群帝骖龙翔
来如雷霆收震怒
罢如江海凝清光
绛唇珠袖两寂寞
晚有弟子传芬芳
临颍美人在白帝
妙舞此曲神扬扬
与余问答既有以
感时抚事增惋伤
先帝侍女八千人
公孙剑器初第一
五十年间似反掌
风尘 [氵项] 洞昏王室
梨园子弟散如烟
女乐馀姿映寒日
金粟堆前木已拱
瞿塘石城草萧瑟
玳筵急管曲复终
乐极哀来月东出
老夫不知其所往
足茧荒山转愁疾
There lived years ago the beautiful Gongsun,
Who, dancing with her dagger, drew from all four quarters
An audience like mountains lost among themselves.
Heaven and earth moved back and forth, following her motions,
Which were bright as when the Archer shot the nine suns down the sky
And rapid as angels before the wings of dragons.
She began like a thunderbolt, venting its anger,
And ended like the shining calm of rivers and the sea....
But vanished are those red lips and those pearly sleeves;
And none but this one pupil bears the perfume of her fame,
This beauty from Lingying, at the Town of the White God,
Dancing still and singing in the old blithe way.
And while we reply to each other's questions,
We sigh together, saddened by changes that have come.
There were eight thousand ladies in the late Emperor's court,
But none could dance the dagger-dance like Lady Gongsun.
...Fifty years have passed, like the turning of a palm;
Wind and dust, filling the world, obscure the Imperial House.
Instead of the Pear-Garden Players, who have blown by like a mist,
There are one or two girl-musicians now-trying to charm the cold Sun.
There are man-size trees by the Emperor's Golden Tomb
I seem to hear dead grasses rattling on the cliffs of Qutang.
...The song is done, the slow string and quick pipe have ceased.
At the height of joy, sorrow comes with the eastern moon rising.
And I, a poor old man, not knowing where to go,
Must harden my feet on the lone hills, toward sickness and despair.

元结　石鱼湖上醉歌并序 A DRINKING SONG AT STONE-FISH LAKE
漫叟以公田米酿酒，因休暇，则载酒於湖上，时取一醉；欢醉中，据湖岸，引臂向鱼取酒，使舫载之，
遍饮坐者。意疑倚巴丘，酌於君山之上，诸子环洞庭而坐，酒舫泛泛然，触波涛而往来者，乃作歌以长之。
I have used grain from the public fields, for distilling wine. After my office hours
I have the wine loaded on a boat and then I seat my friends on the bank of the lake.
The little wine-boats come to each of us and supply us with wine. We seem to be
drinking on Pa Islet in Lake Dongting. And I write this poem.
石鱼湖，似洞庭
夏水欲满君山青
山为樽，水为沼
酒徒历历坐洲鸟
长风连日作大浪
不能废人运酒舫
我持长瓢坐巴丘
酌饮四座以散愁
Stone-Fish Lake is like Lake Dongting --
When the top of Zun is green and the summer tide is rising.
...With the mountain for a table, and the lake a fount of wine,
The tipplers all are settled along the sandy shore.
Though a stiff wind for days has roughened the water,
Wine-boats constantly arrive....
I have a long-necked gourd and, happy on Ba Island,
I am pouring a drink in every direction doing away with care.

韩愈　山石 MOUNTAIN-STONES
山石荦确行径微
黄昏到寺蝙蝠飞
升堂坐阶新雨足
芭蕉叶大栀子肥
僧言古壁佛画好
以火来照所见稀
铺床拂席置羹饭
疏粝亦足饱我饥
夜深静卧百虫绝
清月出岭光入扉
天明独去无道路
出入高下穷烟霏
山红涧碧纷烂漫
时见松枥皆十围
当流赤足蹋涧石
水声激激风吹衣
人生如此自可乐
岂必局束为人 [革几]
嗟哉吾党二三子
安得至老不更归
Rough were the mountain-stones, and the path very narrow;
And when I reached the temple, bats were in the dusk.
I climbed to the hall, sat on the steps, and drank the rain- washed air
Among the round gardenia-pods and huge bananaleaves.
On the old wall, said the priest, were Buddhas finely painted,
And he brought a light and showed me, and I called them wonderful
He spread the bed, dusted the mats, and made my supper ready,
And, though the food was coarse, it satisfied my hunger.
At midnight, while I lay there not hearing even an insect,
The mountain moon with her pure light entered my door....
At dawn I left the mountain and, alone, lost my way:
In and out, up and down, while a heavy mist
Made brook and mountain green and purple, brightening everything.
I am passing sometimes pines and oaks, which ten men could not girdle,
I am treading pebbles barefoot in swift-running water --
Its ripples purify my ear, while a soft wind blows my garments....
These are the things which, in themselves, make life happy.
Why should we be hemmed about and hampered with people?
O chosen pupils, far behind me in my own country,
What if I spent my old age here and never went back home?

韩愈　八月十五夜赠张功曹
ON THE FESTIVAL OF THE MOON
TO SUB-OFFICIAL ZHANG
纤云四卷天无河
清风吹空月舒波
沙平水息声影绝
一杯相属君当歌
君歌声酸辞且苦
不能听终泪如雨
洞庭连天九疑高
蛟龙出没猩鼯号
十生九死到官所
幽居默默如藏逃
下床畏蛇食畏药
海气湿蛰熏腥臊
昨者州前槌大鼓
嗣皇继圣登夔皋
赦书一日行万里
罪从大辟皆除死
迁者追回流者还
涤瑕荡垢清朝班
州家申名使家抑
坎轲只得移荆蛮
判司卑官不堪说
未免捶楚尘埃间
同时辈流多上道
天路幽险难追攀
君歌且休听我歌
我歌今与君殊科
一年明月今宵多
人生由命非由他
有酒不饮奈明何
The fine clouds have opened and the River of Stars is gone,
A clear wind blows across the sky, and the moon widens its wave,
The sand is smooth, the water still, no sound and no shadow,
As I offer you a cup of wine, asking you to sing.
But so sad is this song of yours and so bitter your voice
That before I finish listening my tears have become a rain:
"Where Lake Dongting is joined to the sky by the lofty Nine-Doubt Mountain,
Dragons, crocodiles, rise and sink, apes, flying foxes, whimper....
At a ten to one risk of death, I have reached my official post,
Where lonely I live and hushed, as though I were in hiding.
I leave my bed, afraid of snakes; I eat, fearing poisons;
The air of the lake is putrid, breathing its evil odours....
Yesterday, by the district office, the great drum was announcing
The crowning of an emperor, a change in the realm.
The edict granting pardons runs three hundred miles a day,
All those who were to die have had their sentences commuted,
The unseated are promoted and exiles are recalled,
Corruptions are abolished, clean officers appointed.
My superior sent my name in but the governor would not listen
And has only transferred me to this barbaric place.
My rank is very low and useless to refer to;
They might punish me with lashes in the dust of the street.
Most of my fellow exiles are now returning home --
A journey which, to me, is a heaven beyond climbing."
...Stop your song, I beg you, and listen to mine,
A song that is utterly different from yours:
"Tonight is the loveliest moon of the year.
All else is with fate, not ours to control;
But, refusing this wine, may we choose more tomorrow?"

韩愈　谒衡岳庙遂宿岳寺题门楼 STOPPING AT A TEMPLE ON HENG MOUNTAIN I
INSCRIBE THIS POEM IN THE GATE-TOWER
五岳祭秩皆三公
四方环镇嵩当中
火维地荒足妖怪
天假神柄专其雄
喷云泄雾藏半腹
虽有绝顶谁能穷
我来正逢秋雨节
阴气晦昧无清风
潜心默祷若有应
岂非正直能感通
须臾静扫众峰出
仰见突兀撑青空
紫盖连延接天柱
石廪腾掷堆祝融
森然魄动下马拜
松柏一迳趋灵宫
纷墙丹柱动光彩
鬼物图画填青红
升阶伛偻荐脯酒
欲以菲薄明其衷
庙内老人识神意
睢盱侦伺能鞠躬
手持杯 [王交] 导我掷
云此最吉馀难同
窜逐蛮荒幸不死
衣食才足甘长终
侯王将相望久绝
神纵欲福难为功
夜投佛寺上高阁
星月掩映云 [日童][日龙]
猿鸣钟动不知曙
杲杲寒日生於东
The five Holy Mountains have the rank of the Three Dukes.
The other four make a ring, with the Song Mountain midmost.
To this one, in the fire-ruled south, where evil signs are rife,
Heaven gave divine power, ordaining it a peer.
All the clouds and hazes are hidden in its girdle;
And its forehead is beholden only by a few.
...I came here in autumn, during the rainy season,
When the sky was overcast and the clear wind gone.
I quieted my mind and prayed, hoping for an answer;
For assuredly righteous thinking reaches to high heaven.
And soon all the mountain-peaks were showing me their faces;
I looked up at a pinnacle that held the clean blue sky:
The wide Purple-Canopy joined the Celestial Column;
The Stone Granary leapt, while the Fire God stood still.
Moved by this token, I dismounted to offer thanks.
A long path of pine and cypress led to the temple.
Its white walls and purple pillars shone, and the vivid colour
Of gods and devils filled the place with patterns of red and blue.
I climbed the steps and, bending down to sacrifice, besought
That my pure heart might be welcome, in spite of my humble offering.
The old priest professed to know the judgment of the God:
He was polite and reverent, making many bows.
He handed me divinity-cups, he showed me how to use them
And told me that my fortune was the very best of all.
Though exiled to a barbarous land, mine is a happy life.
Plain food and plain clothes are all I ever wanted.
To be prince, duke, premier, general, was never my desire;
And if the God would bless me, what better could he grant than this ? --
At night I lie down to sleep in the top of a high tower;
While moon and stars glimmer through the darkness of the clouds....
Apes call, a bell sounds. And ready for dawn
I see arise, far in the east the cold bright sun.

韩愈　石鼓歌.........
A POEM ON THE STONE DRUMS
张生手持石鼓文
劝我识作石鼓歌
少陵无人谪仙死
才薄将奈石鼓何
周纲凌迟四海沸
宣王愤起挥天戈
大开明堂受朝贺
诸侯剑佩鸣相磨
搜于岐阳骋雄俊
万里禽兽皆遮罗
镌功勒成告万世
凿石作鼓隳嵯峨
从臣才艺咸第一
拣选撰刻留山阿
雨淋日炙野火燎
鬼物守护烦 [扌为] 呵
公从何处得纸本
毫发尽备无差讹
辞严义密读难晓
字体不类隶与蝌
年深岂免有缺画
快剑砍断生蛟鼍
鸾翔凤翥众仙下
珊瑚碧树交枝柯
金绳铁索锁钮壮
古鼎跃水龙腾梭
陋儒编诗不收入
二雅褊迫无委蛇
孔子西行不到秦
掎摭星宿遗羲娥
嗟予好古生苦晚
对此涕泪双滂沱
忆昔初蒙博士徵
其年始改称元和
故人从军在右辅
为我度量掘臼科
濯冠沐浴告祭酒
如此至宝存岂多
毡包席裹可立致
十鼓只载数骆驼
荐诸太庙比郜鼎
光价岂止百倍过
圣恩若许留太学
诸生讲解得切磋
观经鸿都尚填咽
坐见举国来奔波
剜苔剔藓露节角
安置妥帖平不颇
大厦深檐与盖覆
经历久远期无佗
中朝大官老於事
讵肯感激徒 [“妍”右上一横改为“合”] 婀
牧童敲火牛砺角
谁复著手为摩挲
日销月铄就埋没
六年西顾空吟哦
羲之俗书趁姿媚
数纸尚可博白鹅
继周八代争战罢
无人收拾理则那
方今太平日无事
柄任儒术崇丘轲
安能以此上论列
愿借辩口如悬河
石鼓之歌止於此
呜呼吾意其蹉跎
Chang handed me this tracing, from the stone drums,
Beseeching me to write a poem on the stone drums.
Du Fu has gone. Li Bai is dead.
What can my poor talent do for the stone drums?
...When the Zhou power waned and China was bubbling,
Emperor Xuan, up in wrath, waved his holy spear:
And opened his Great Audience, receiving all the tributes
Of kings and lords who came to him with a tune of clanging weapons.
They held a hunt in Qiyang and proved their marksmanship:
Fallen birds and animals were strewn three thousand miles.
And the exploit was recorded, to inform new generations....
Cut out of jutting cliffs, these drums made of stone-
On which poets and artisans, all of the first order,
Had indited and chiselled-were set in the deep mountains
To be washed by rain, baked by sun, burned by wildfire,
Eyed by evil spirits; and protected by the gods.
...Where can he have found the tracing on this paper? --
True to the original, not altered by a hair,
The meaning deep, the phrases cryptic, difficult to read.
And the style of the characters neither square nor tadpole.
Time has not yet vanquished the beauty of these letters --
Looking like sharp daggers that pierce live crocodiles,
Like phoenix-mates dancing, like angels hovering down,
Like trees of jade and coral with interlocking branches,
Like golden cord and iron chain tied together tight,
Like incense-tripods flung in the sea, like dragons mounting heaven.
Historians, gathering ancient poems, forgot to gather these,
To make the two Books of Musical Song more colourful and striking;
Confucius journeyed in the west, but not to the Qin Kingdom,
He chose our planet and our stars but missed the sun and moon
I who am fond of antiquity, was born too late
And, thinking of these wonderful things, cannot hold back my tears....
I remember, when I was awarded my highest degree,
During the first year of Yuanho,
How a friend of mine, then at the western camp,
Offered to assist me in removing these old relics.
I bathed and changed, then made my plea to the college president
And urged on him the rareness of these most precious things.
They could be wrapped in rugs, be packed and sent in boxes
And carried on only a few camels: ten stone drums
To grace the Imperial Temple like the Incense-Pot of Gao --
Or their lustre and their value would increase a hundredfold,
If the monarch would present them to the university,
Where students could study them and doubtless decipher them,
And multitudes, attracted to the capital of culture
Prom all corners of the Empire, would be quick to gather.
We could scour the moss, pick out the dirt, restore the original surface,
And lodge them in a fitting and secure place for ever,
Covered by a massive building with wide eaves
Where nothing more might happen to them as it had before.
...But government officials grow fixed in their ways
And never will initiate beyond old precedent;
So herd- boys strike the drums for fire, cows polish horns on them,
With no one to handle them reverentially.
Still ageing and decaying, soon they may be effaced.
Six years I have sighed for them, chanting toward the west....
The familiar script of Wang Xizhi, beautiful though it was,
Could be had, several pages, just for a few white geese,
But now, eight dynasties after the Zhou, and all the wars over,
Why should there be nobody caring for these drums?
The Empire is at peace, the government free.
Poets again are honoured and Confucians and Mencians....
Oh, how may this petition be carried to the throne?
It needs indeed an eloquent flow, like a cataract-
But, alas, my voice has broken, in my song of the stone drums,
To a sound of supplication choked with its own tears.