The Jurchens, with malice, disdain human lives,
Wielding whips, they gaze straight at Chang'an, no qualms.
Crossing the Yellow River south is like treading flat ground,
Yet to the east, Mount Taihang cannot bar their way.
The imperial city spans eighty li around,
Two hundred thousand troops, their fury splits the eye.
Banners on the walls tangle with mist and smoke,
Swords at their waists congeal like autumn water.
Snowflakes fall all day, a hazy, blurring shroud,
Black flags ascend the walls, blowing a dark wind.
Our forces dare not lift their heads to look,
Like fleeing hares or loosed pigs, swept clean away.
At night, flames rise, confusing the phoenix towers,
Drums and gongs boom, the very earth seems to split.
The people wail, 'Where shall we go?'
Gazing at each other, wordless, only weeping blood.
Minister He knocks at the dragon steps,
The besieged ministers gnaw their own navels in regret.
A surprise force turns into envoys begging for peace,
Vowing to sacrifice one death to save the multitude.
Smooth talk seems to appease the barbarian chief's wrath,
The nine tripods, weighty as mountains, he deigns not regard.
South of the suburbs, they await the tax on the emperor's carriage,
Then break through the Yellow River's flow and straight depart.
Your Majesty's benevolence and filial piety match ancient sages,
How can you bear to let barbarian cavalry threaten our kin?
The Grand Historian, uncaring of cracked skin, whips his horse,
With one sortie, he calls back spring for the altars of state.
The captors, still covetous for gain,
A thousand carts laden with gold leave them unsatisfied.
Hairpins and trinkets are not kept for the six palaces,
They ransack common homes, nearly rolling up the land.
The six dragons once more emerge for the common people's sake,
Their bodies grind against tiger's teeth, yet they show no fear.
The towering city teems with ten thousand barbarian slaves,
The imperial carriage, cut off, now for ten long days.
At the south gate, the innocent masses gather daily, thronging,
Striving to scoop fragrant ointment, anointing their own heads.
Their wrath becomes clouds, their tears become rain,
The endless white day holds no blue sky.
King Tai served the Di, emptying coffers of silk and gold,
Thus sitting, he made his reign surpass eight hundred years.
Heaven's hearing truly lies in the people's hearts and ears,
Who says the azure sky is ninety thousand li away?
We shall see spring winds embrace the ochre-yellow robes,
The myriad people sing and shout, wild with joy.
The sky is dustless, gazing at the North Star,
The comet's tail falls to earth, transformed to stubborn stone.