In the intercalary ninth month of the Shaoding reign, on the night of Jiyou, a comet appears.
The observatory reports to the throne; the main court hall yields its seat.
The imperial kitchen reduces its feasts; the music school halts its melodies.
The pardon pole releases prisoners; the dragon screen seeks honest words through self-blame.
Sincere devotion reaches the nine heavens; virtuous words travel through distant lands.
Scholars in round bridges, born of humble fare, gaze at the blazing light and ponder in their hearts.
I hear the primal void shapes our form; dark and yellow distinguish colors.
Spinning left, turning right, closing once, opening once.
Coming forth and withdrawing, the four seasons proceed; removing the old, spreading the new, cold and heat alternate.
Vast is the net of heaven, yet its governance neglects its duty.
The Year Star in the east, wood ruling benevolence, fails to sweep away tyranny and oppression.
The Sparkling Deluder in the south, fire ruling propriety, fails to sweep away arrogance and bullying.
The Great White in the west, metal ruling righteousness, fails to sweep away banditry and chaotic schemes.
The Chronographic Star in the north, water ruling wisdom, fails to sweep away obscurity and slander.
The Quelling Star in the center, earth ruling trust, fails to sweep away deceit and cunning.
The august heavens select the star of discipline, sending forth a comet's broom to sweep the realm.
On the sun's loom are nine comets, now up, now down, empty as a brush.
Above Guixie are two comets, emerging not to travel, seen then extinguished.
The Heavenly Dog's short comet by the tail, its fiery light blazing brilliantly.
The Tianchan resembles a comet, cloud-like as a dipper; the Chiyou resembles a comet, curved like a winnowing basket behind.
The Six Thieves like comets in the west; Xianhan with a comet due north.
Driven and urged, none advance; the comet pushes through the tangled mess.
It points not to Fang and Xin, the hall of light's place; approaches not Ji and Wei, the abode of queens.
It reaches not Shen and Mao, singing of quilts and covers; turns not toward Niu and Nü, chasing wanton pleasure.
It visits not the granaries near Lou and Wei; inquires not at Gai and Ying, reaching Wei and Shi.
It seeks not the altars above Jing and Gui; delights not in literature, roaming Kui and Bi.
It probes not the celestial root past Kang and Di; consults not hunting near Liu and Bi.
It follows not Xuanyao to ask of waste and loss; passes not Zhang and Su to beg for feasting guests.
It comes not from Zixi to visit the garrison troops; enters not Liu's storehouse to seek kitchen food.
It calls not the Seven Stars to ask urgent matters; summons not the Southern Dipper for shared deliberation.
The Heavenly King's court is the Great Horn, with three stars on either side like tripod legs.
Where the Dipper's handle points, the seasons are established; this is called Shetige.
Sweeping the courtyard within, the foundation of all transformations; if weeds are not cleared, who can observe the law?
Zhen drives the wind chariot as chief minister; losing balance in carrying the scale lies in proper adornment.
Yi flaps its wings, governing change and peace; if the flying feathers lack strength, they must be shaken and brushed.
With one stroke of the bald broom, within is cleared, without is ordered.
The four seas and nine provinces, none are not subjects.
The Imperial Seat at the center steers the pivot; for ten thousand years, a thousand ages, it never ceases.