When the world first split, strange stones were born,
They once formed the bones of Mount Buzhou, forlorn.
Mountains crumbled, earth cracked, the sky-pillar fell,
Yet this lone rock's aged grace turned wondrous, tales to tell.
Nüwa smelted stones to mend the heavens' breach,
Transforming them to five stars, each with its colored reach.
Stones below, stars above—a change profound,
From stubborn matter, spirits rise unbound.
One day, the Heavenly Wolf gnawed, stars plummeted down,
Their fallen light still gleams on Song's wild ground.
Who bore it by night to a sea-girt isle?
Mixed with Kunwu's ore, lost in the tangled trial.
Amidst them, one rugged rock stands alone,
By Jinxi Stream's upper bank, it makes its home.
Its moistness could make an inkstone fine,
Its grain could serve as a screen's design.
It might be carved for a tripod's base, or inscribed with grace,
Or hold mica, purple ore, cinnabar's trace, or azurite's face.
Yet for all uses, it fits not one,
Vainly towering high, layer upon layer spun.
Torrents drown horses, it neither shrinks nor grows,
Frost reveals stone, no increase it shows.
Fire cannot scorch it, water cannot freeze,
Carved as a zither, it gives no melodies.
Feathered arrows strike, yet it feels no fright,
The world's wisest cannot change its plight—how dare I flee the name 'fool' in their sight?
Men hate to hear 'fool,' delight in 'wise,'
You call me fool—a true friend in disguise.
I'll build a hut to welcome you, our bond to seal,
And ask Liu Xi to write our 'Fool's Record' with zeal.
I laugh at my own folly, but yours is more,
Two fools in the world meet, as never before.
Rivers flow east, the sun sets in the west,
Through all ages, thus we're seen, at our behest.
In former days, high rank could not make me nod,
How much less now, spurred by others' prod?