The Lu River is clear,
The Lu River's clarity is like a mirror's plane.
The Shu River flows from the west, its waves in endless train,
The Inner River halts its course, as if in slow refrain.
Where the two rivers meet, a hundred ramparts rise in might,
Marking the bounds of Yi and Zi, Ba and Kui, left and right,
Like lips that guard the teeth, a barrier firm and tight.
Yunnan and Yelang,
Are but neighbors east and west, not far along.
The perils of mountains and rivers lie in those who guard them long;
The aura of Marquis Wu through ages remains strong.
Then came Fan Hou, a hero among men,
A descendant of Shu's loyal and learned kin,
With pure demeanor and vigor that pushes autumn's sky thin.
At court, his repute stood high among officials' line,
Scorning the drunken crowd, content with clarity divine.
Though the Censorate was fine, he shamed to bend and pine,
For ten years, his heart at rivers and seas, yet towards the court did incline.
The Lu River is clear,
I sing with fervor; pray, lend me your ear.
Of all Shu's eastern towns, Lu holds the greatest weight,
Since Fan Hou came, it stands like a golden gate.
The eastern army's pride was once a cause for fear,
The cunning of Nanzhao, how could it be tamed sincere?
My lord's heart is clear as still water, pure and deep,
Governing with few desires, in honesty his keep.
Heavy gates, strict watches, evening beacons cold,
By Purple Pass, shared plowing, timely rains unfold.
Seven years he lingered, unable to depart,
The border folk love him as parents, from the heart.
This year, urgent missives come from the northern side,
From both river regions, harsh levies far and wide.
Officials knock on doors,
Farmers leave their chores,
Deadlines press like sparks of fire,
How can they pause, even for a moment's hire?
Gold is cast away like dirt, cheap and low,
Paper currency soars, strings of cash in endless flow.
In a moment's talk, the rich to poor descend,
Can the county magistrate bear to seek more gain in the end?
Fifty-six prefectures seethe like boiling waves in strife,
Only the three Lu rivers remain clear, clear through life.
A guest from the eastern province came,
And laid out for me the detailed claim:
Fan Hou in former days, free from worldly care,
His hoarded wealth, decayed, was for the people's share.
Two parts for officials, one part to be paid,
One part still feared to make the people's brows dismayed.
Army provisions, funds for grain, still lent with grace,
Awaiting autumn's harvest to set a slower pace,
With gentle breeze and warm sun on the river village's face.
The old drunk, the young crowd, vie to support and greet,
Officials' shouts—when did they glare in anger's heat?
Only the pot-filling bird and cuckoo sing each dawn clear,
Happy, the land of three Lu, like Hua Xu or Da Ting, dear.
The ninefold heaven is far, our calls unheard,
How can you bear to leave us, return to your hometown's word?
Strong enemies' lingering souls still haunt Three Qin's ground,
When can the border garrisons be pulled back all around?
The treasury has no surplus silk, granaries stand bare,
Generals proud, soldiers slack, hard to command and bear.
Righteous bands scatter, gathering on their own,
Often in hundreds, forming groups alone.
Autumn rains flood, crops fail to grow,
In midwinter, thunder drums rumble and blow,
My heart hides sorrow, nose turns sour with woe.
People's hearts grow reckless, still unaware,
Talents lie idle, dwelling in mountain lair.
I hear Lu's folk cannot release their love for you,
Pray you live long, blessed like Zhongwen, faithful and true.
Though you cleanse yourself, delight in springs and stone,
Can you bear a moment forgetting our sovereign throne?
When will the imperial seal's decree from heaven descend,
Summoning you to rise, to Purple Palace attend?
To support state discourse, bring peace to the land,
Tidy the cosmos, drive evil spirits from every strand.
Then learn from Zhongwen, hang cap at Shenwu Gate,
In bamboo carriage, rustic clothes, return to roam E and Min's state.
Du Fu once read the "Journey to Chongling," in days of yore,
Knew Yuan the Governor as the nation's core.
A thousand years vague, lacking successor's tone,
I beat the rhythm, for you, sing this verse alone.
The Lu River is clear,
The Lu River is clear,
Who now is the officer to gather songs sincere?
The song done, my heart and gall remain in turmoil sheer.