Reading history by the lamp at night, I pat my chest with a sudden sigh.
How marvelous! The heroes of the world share the same insight.
Sima Qian sighed over the decline of the Mi family's power,
Saying that human influence will eventually wither.
The Banished Immortal wrote poems to warn the mighty,
Also advising not to rely on the force of wind and waves like the white dragon.
Thus I know the boastful men of this world,
Who clutch at external things, only to end in emptiness.
Have you not seen? When Prince Wei first seized Chu,
Sweat poured like rain before the Zhanghua Terrace.
He greedily sought Zheng's fields and Zhou's tripods,
Looking down on even Duke Huan of Qi and Duke Wen of Jin.
But one morning at Qianxi, his multitude crumbled,
He lay hungry, pillowing his head on a servant's thigh.
Have you not seen? When Fuchai claimed hegemony at Huangchi,
The lords dared not even glance askance.
At the oath-taking, he vied for precedence, and none dared refuse;
Wu was ranked first, Jin second.
But no sooner had he returned to the heartland than he was defeated at Lize,
A hundred families at Yongdong—how pitiable!
Have you not seen? Lord Father of Zhao, especially fierce and strong,
Swallowing the lands north of Dai as if driving sheep.
He deceitfully entered Qin as an envoy,
His awe-inspiring manner startling King Zhao of Qin.
In his later years, a misstep in establishing his heir,
He probed for the fledgling at Shaqiu and ended starving to death.
After reciting poems and reading history, I open the golden cabinet's books.
Zhang Dun, Cai Jing, Qin Hui, and Han Tuozhou—their past deeds are especially lamentable.
Dun wished to exterminate the Yuanyou faction,
Erecting stele of denunciation in the capital.
In Shaoxing, fifty-three families were under Qin's control;
In Qingyuan, fifty-nine men were at Han's mercy.
Zhang and Cai were exiled, Han was beheaded,
And Qin too lies breathless in the underworld.
Their momentum once shook mountains and peaks,
Now they are but a pit of cold ashes.
Later generations view the present as we view the past,
Alas! The twin chariot tracks on the road have overturned.
After reading these three books, the lamp also dims,
Snoring, I pillow till the east grows bright.