Sharing the same hall, yet divided as you and I,
How much more when separated by miles that stretch high.
Not knowing where the slightest news may come from,
I toss and turn all night, rising eight or nine times numb.
With well-field system lost, I think of knocking the palace gate,
How can I bear to see fields in summer and autumn desolate?
Sweet rain is drink for the thirsty, that's its due,
Why does the blazing sun persist, proud and untrue?
Old and young climb trees seeking water in despair,
Only the vapor-dragon still follows reason's care.
How can we know heaven's heart is not vast and grand,
Treating all, wise or foolish, as children of the land?
Worshiping clay idols, praying to puppets, none ask why,
But moving mountains with pebbles brings hopeful sigh.
Clouds fly, winds rise, building momentum and might,
Wild fog and mountain dusk brew sweetness and light.
For three days, clouds gather thick and dense,
Every drop, every grain, beyond count immense.
Alas, why do you cherish your lives so dear?
Cheers and dances, choking with joy, as if death near.
With a body, how can one not seek to live?
Heaven and earth's heart is thus to give.
A humble thatched cottage holds a plan,
Yao and Shun were also merely man.
Those in court corridors share this same frame,
Extending to others and things, only self is the aim.
The sage in palace thinks of people and creatures,
In spring, he avoids breaking willows or harming ants' features.
Discussing Dao and harmonizing principles, he knows well,
That one man unsaved is ancient shame to tell.
Three years of farming yield one year's food,
Under Yao's flood or Tang's drought, none died or moved.
Having the people's heart, he plans for their need,
This way is straight as an arrow, smooth as a reed.