I came to the green hills not a day ago,
When Pinggu rebels raided Ningyi, a sudden blow.
A rabble then still feared the officers' might,
But rumors of war chilled my heart with fright.
None to fight them off, none to give chase,
They swaggered through towns, leaving no trace.
The fallen troops, the swelling band—words fail,
From hundreds first to thousands, a grim tale.
Flags received, they swept a thousand li in haste,
Settlements burned like water swept without a waste.
Among them, maidens' plight most piteous to see,
Shouldering burdens, leading oxen, trudging wearily.
They searched every nook, every hidden cellar deep,
Thinking daylight would never again from darkness leap.
I fled the robbers then, to a cliff temple I'd hide,
And saw them myself along the southern mountainside.
Red kudzu veiled their heads, their steps on peaks were set,
Silk quilts wrapped round their bodies like crimson waves beset.
Recruiting blades, three feet of frosty gleam,
With giant shields and red-tipped spears, a fearsome team.
My humble refuge blessed by spirits' care,
Clear above the mountain, mist shrouded the lower air.
Lost, I dared not move, hesitant and slow,
Reluctantly I ventured toward Lianhu Lake below.
Six bandits in red scaled the summit high,
Shouts encircling the hills echoed to the sky.
Snow-like missiles fell in a chaotic rain,
Innocent souls leapt willingly into the chasm's pain.
The prefecture forgot the county, the county forgot the town,
We weakened ourselves, not by the rebels' renown.
Bribes for peace might not suffice, I fear,
While vermin in official robes drag crimson here.
Who on this day does not turn to banditry?
Alas, I sigh alone at life's busy misery.
Alas, I sigh alone at life's busy strife,
Under the slanting sun, looking back on this world and life.