Piled stones by the river, steep as a wall; boatmen point, saying 'The Loving Mother Rock'.
The name 'Loving Mother'—unbearable to hear; rugged cliffs press down on autumn river's blue.
Hearing of the Loving Mother Rock, it stirs thoughts of my own parents.
Who does not think of their parents? Yet my thoughts bring special sorrow.
I recall when I was a child, the family poor, daily striving for livelihood.
My parents clothed me,宁愿 themselves cold; they fed me,宁愿 themselves hungry.
Gathering firewood to replace lamp candles, selling clothes to buy me books.
Morning and evening urging me to study hard, warning me not to be an ordinary boy.
Alas, my life fraught with many ills; my parents nurtured me, prolonging my days.
Suddenly lying ill, groaning; my parents焦急, faces dark as lacquer.
Sometimes praying to gods for me, wishing me early to wear the blue robe of office.
Then my heart was often moved, vowing to follow the Master's words without fail.
Alas, my life fraught with many setbacks; failing young, success came late.
Moreover, while my parents lived, food was scarce, clothes insufficient.
Now I hold a minor official post, a meager salary barely enough to offer them sweet fare.
Both parents gone, buried in desolate mounds; the meager salary now feeds wife and children.
Sometimes raising chopsticks to eat fresh delicacies, silently, tears unknowingly stream.
Wiping tears, vainly offering wine in libation; the cup cannot reach their shades before me.
Loving Mother Rock, rare in the world, you stand by the river, enduring as heaven and earth.
I long for my parents, yet cannot feed them; this regret shall with you never perish.
Alas, boundless grace hard to repay; now I must rely on transferring loyalty and filial piety.
I shall strive to serve my enlightened lord, thus perhaps gaining fame to repay my two parents.