Advance or retreat is a matter of great integrity,
A gentleman values its completeness.
Offering counsel is truly a great affair,
A good minister should put it first.
If either of these two is lost,
How can one be called supremely virtuous?
Moreover, tempted by power and gain,
Even a steadfast nature is easily swayed.
Chasing the times, one may be sharp and bold,
But looking to righteousness, few are sincere and firm.
Kunlun holds fine jade,
That fierce flames dare not burn.
Mount Hua has ancient pines,
That harsh frost cannot wither.
You rose through learning and conduct,
On splendid paths for thirty years.
Your capacity rivals ancient sages,
Your writings rich as clouds and deep as seas.
Moving calmly through the court,
All hopes rest on your judgment and grace.
Meeting the lute of warm breeze,
You changed the strings for the people's sake.
Pure in thought, caring for all,
With the Way, you spoke boldly in perilous times.
Once you laid aside the official regalia,
Easy as forgetting trap and snare.
A dark goose soars among the clouds,
An old crane finds the fields of magic herbs.
Your true nature embraces vast freedom,
The worldly net of constraints now shed.
Returning home to dwell in peace,
A glorious event that brightens the mortal realm.
Elders marvel and exclaim,
Saying you are like an immortal being.
Scholars have long looked up to you as a model,
Gazing at you as at a garden of splendor.
Try reading histories of former ages,
Few men of old could match your shoulder.
I've heard of Qiao and Gu,
Whose pure sincerity moved the emperor's heart.
Wishing to rely on utmost loyal strength,
To modestly stem the rushing river.
Unfortunately, they suffered execution and disgrace,
How could they grow old in forest and spring?
Only leaving tears of state's finest men,
That even now make one weep.
And I've heard of Guang and Shou,
Knowing when to stop, both sought return.
Farewell tents flourished at the capital gate,
A thousand in gold donated in their hometown.
Yet their grand discussions and judgments,
Lie lonely and empty in simple scrolls.
Though there are still painting hands,
Often passing down their portraits in color.
The paths these four men took,
Were all, in their own way, one-sided.
Only you met with sage and bright rule,
Graceful in rolling and unrolling between.
In office, thinking to repay the grace,
Begging leave to enjoy peace and leisure.
Your plain conduct shines like jade,
Your noble name weighs heavier than mountains.
Knowing you will enjoy long life,
Years and months stretching far ahead.
Vigorous looks exchanged for aged bones,
Black hair hiding a hoary crown.
Trusting you preserve fortune and blessings,
Descendants celebrating in endless line.
The high gate welcomes carriage and four,
Old treasures return to the blue felt.
Virtue in the end receives its proof,
The work of nature can be traced and studied.
Petty wisdom clings to boundaries,
Open mind seeks the deepest source.
Just as one mired in self and things,
Who then would reckon cold and warmth?
Transcendent, truly self-content,
Confined and shrinking is but vain.
Bowing twice far below your gate,
I chant long, singing this verse.