Though I'm fond of learning by nature,
In youth I lacked self-discipline.
I never reached the gate of knowledge,
How could I hope to enter its hall?
Years have slipped away unnoticed,
And I alone bear family burdens.
Striving to feed the many mouths,
I rush about in all directions.
Like a drifting cloud in the sky,
I'm blown by winds wherever they go.
Vast are the mountains and rivers,
No perilous wonder have I not tasted.
At sunset, tigers and leopards roar,
Yet I do not halt my carriage.
Waves stir dragons in the deep,
And still I press on with my boat.
Half the world I've toiled to traverse,
But what I've achieved is but a hair's tip.
I recall most the years gone by,
When my sickly frame long lay feeble.
Groaning a thousand miles from home,
I met with sudden news of a parent's death.
Mother and brothers all far away,
The mournful tidings would surely shock them.
Alone I bore the dreadful blow,
My perilous form aboard a lonely boat.
Over rough paths I guarded the coffin,
And journeyed afar to my native place.
Even now, my heart still trembles,
For my safe return was truly a miracle.
Worries have worn my heart and gall,
Haste and toil have strained my sinews.
Moreover, I near the decline of life,
And often face the wind and frost.
Driven so long in such a state,
It's no wonder my ailments persist.
A meager meal at morn and eve,
A hundred paces in the empty corridor.
I can hardly sit or lie in peace,
How then can I pore over books?
New knowledge is naturally scant,
Old learning too has slipped my mind.
The hundred schools hold different aims,
The Six Classics abound in writings.
Their words are lofty and profound,
Their meanings vast and obscure.
The ancients, even white-haired,
Wearied heart and gut in endless search.
To master but a single art was rare,
And writing books to shine for ages.
Flaws they tried to hide themselves,
Are by posterity more clearly seen.
Long has the world been without Confucius,
Each points and draws according to his view.
Later men of middling talent,
Measure with presumptuous minds.
They, focused yet, have not attained,
What hope for me, so lazy now?
My worries make me childlike,
Practicing words, I invert the radicals.
Much less discuss rites and artifacts,
How could I grasp their full design?
Which wheel-spoke is warped or straight?
Which hat and carriage dark or bright?
Jade tablets, instruments of state,
Which are blunt and which are sharp?
Asked of ten, nine I don't comprehend,
The tenth still has me facing a wall.
Subtle words on life and fate,
First signs that tell rise and fall.
These seem especially boundless,
How can I avoid being lost?
Yet thinking I'm still somewhat strong,
Why not rouse myself with vigor?
Past plans indeed were clumsy,
Future efforts may prove better.
Gradually I'll have some fields,
For spring and autumn plow and mulberry.
No need to ask for doctor's drugs,
Diseases may be driven away.
My nature originally clear,
The field of feeling cleared of weeds.
Long scrolls lean on tall racks,
Great rolls freed from deep bags.
I fear the fleeing light, yet seek achievement,
Peep at stars from a quiet room.
Through empty window, deep dusk arrives,
Bright lamp continues the flying light.
Though weary from exhaustive search,
I must repay with tempered will.
Just as diligent farming,
Brings no fear of empty granary.
Or as guiding a tiny stream,
Can lead to a mighty river.
What was neglected slowly opens,
New gains are daily stored away.
Toil with steady diligence,
And accumulation grows abundant.
When much is gathered, choose with care,
Store the essence, discard the chaff.
Align with Confucius and Mencius as the standard,
Then wield the brush like Han and Zhuang.
Friends visit my empty study,
Discussions held on square couches.
Trying to bring forth what I have,
Like palace notes answering shang.
In tangled debate, when struck,
The tones of music intertwine.
In moments, myriad changes peak,
Opening and closing vie like yin and yang.
Southern hills face my dusty desk,
Rubbing against each other, revealing azure.
A hundred birds hover listening,
As if the phoenix suddenly came.
Then I know after a thousand years,
Sitting here, I may see Yao and Shun.
Though practice has not borne fruit,
Is not the store itself good?
No different from a stable horse,
Chewing grass in a full paddock.
If the body is well nourished,
Strength easily leaps and gallops.
This pursuit, though hard, is not too late,
This aim lies in steadfast resolve.