I recall those years at fourteen or fifteen,
When I watched autumn tides reach the river's scene.
Lifting my robe, I climbed straight to the tavern's height,
Leaned on the rail, gazed where the tide swelled in sight.
For hundreds of miles, famed as the sea's gate,
A slender silver line, endless and straight.
Nearer the river's heart, its mark grew vast,
Roaring, it swallowed armies ten thousand cast.
Soon the tide's crest rose several zhang high,
All following waves rushed up beneath the sky.
Amidst them, ambitious lads slapped the waves' might,
A few red flags vied, dancing in the light.
Before the wind, they fluttered, seizing the prize,
Divine dragons and demon crocs, all paralyzed.
The Tide-Watching Marquis, Wu Xu, stands there,
But see the surge churn back, pushed by his glare.
Later, sand silted up at Xixing's mouth,
How could the tide's force then be full, in truth?
On water, men rode bareback horses, slow,
Carts like chicken coops, horses like dogs in tow.
Years later, it became unstoppable, dire,
Thundering, startling the Eye-Washing Pond's mire.
Vast waters swept vegetable gardens away,
Even by Bazi Bridge, all turned to gray.
The Divine Marsh's officer, by Heaven's decree,
Drove piles and stacked stones, managed carefully.
For over ten years now, they've held it back,
Piles and stones like a city, firm in the water's track.
By the river, folk thought they could dwell in peace,
Yet year after year, worry did not cease.
The west wind stirs the tide at midnight's hour,
What of Wu Xu's wrath, his vengeful power?
A chilling might brings fog and misty shroud,
Rolling stones, lifting sand from the underworld's cloud.
I envy those wave-slapping lads in the mist,
Treading on danger, fearless, they persist.
Rise and fall, wax and wane, sir, do not ignore,
Hold fast the long pole, and the single flag you bore.