The year before last, an edict praised the lizard,
For bringing rich moisture to the common people.
The sage ruler prayed devoutly and received auspicious response,
Its merit seemed to rival heaven and earth.
Recorded in statutes and proclaimed to all under heaven,
Which commandery or county dared not to comply?
High ministers composed poems to record this grand event,
Singing in turn, their works filled volumes.
Last winter brought no snow, this spring no rain,
Clouds gathered in the western suburbs, dense and still.
Suddenly, the Mars star encroached upon the sun,
The brilliant orb lost its light, turning blood-red.
The ninefold palace, anxious and troubled, mindful of the dire drought,
Issued several lines of fine script, full of deep compassion.
All officials and clerks rushed about,
Seeking to move the transformative power with utmost sincerity.
Buddhist temples and old shrines were earnestly entreated,
Dragon shrines and goose altars were eagerly searched.
Again, palace envoys were sent bearing imperial incense,
Praying throughout mountains and rivers, yet still no result.
The failure of the first sowing is the gravest matter,
How much more when the three agricultural tasks are neglected.
Word spreads that taxes have been waived in nine circuits,
Surely because the fields have little grain or wheat.
Alas, lizard, do you not feel shame?
The workings of creation are profound, not your responsibility.
The green youth with willow branch remains as before,
Why has your divine efficacy diminished compared to that day?
If the common people look to you for timely rain,
What need is there for wise ministers in the court?