Luggage waits outside the gate,
The carriage readies for the capital's state.
Three years you governed Hangzhou's land,
Your keen and able mind was grand.
Your conduct flawless, pure and bright,
Like ice-clear jade in crystal light.
In every task you stood your ground,
Through storm and stress, your faith was sound.
You welcomed guests with open hand,
And for the learned, a couch would stand.
Your noble mind embraced all things,
And scorned the crafty schemings.
Your heart, a mirror, clear and true,
Distinguished black from white in view.
You soothed the people's pain with grace,
And curbed the cunning clerks' disgrace.
Last summer's famine struck with might,
When rice was precious, shining bright.
The farmers had no store to keep,
The granaries lay empty, deep.
You took the burden on your own,
Sought counsel from the woodsmen known.
Your awe made neighboring bandits quake,
And fed ten thousand souls each day you'd make.
Each plan you toiled for, one by one,
From dawn till dusk, your work was done.
Alas, those in power, blind and cold,
Their inquiries were lax and old.
This merit rivals ancients' deed,
Yet treated as a common seed.
But public judgment will be fair,
And heaven's court will hear your prayer.
I, frail, till fields by valley's mouth,
Like a withered tree, stuck in the south.
Others pay me no regard,
Yet you, my humble hut, have charmed.
You shed the manners of our age,
And treated me as a noble sage.
At parting, sorrow fills my heart,
What gift can ease this bitter smart?
I only wish you grind your will,
And broaden your ambition's hill.
Wealth and honor are your due,
A blue felt mat awaits for you.
Though ill, I see you off with pain,
The sour wind blows on the lane.
Your banner cannot linger long,
I scratch my head, in sorrow strong.