The great river once burst eastward, flowing to the southeast;
Now the desolate eastern commandery leaves but a sunken pool.
I asked the elders of old times to tell me the reason;
They said five ancient tripods were hidden on a high hill.
The land was numinous, streams fair, plants and trees grew thick;
A rich, auspicious vapor steamed and floated constantly.
Things hide and appear in cycles, their numbers have their rounds;
Strange secrets are searched out by spirits, hidden mysteries.
Heaven darkened, earth grew grim, ghosts wept in the gloom;
The supreme treasure about to emerge, wind and clouds grieved.
Shaking mountains and rivers, losing their bounds and corners;
Nine dragons fought greatly, driving out flood-dragons.
Suddenly the bank cracked, thundering like cloud-steeds;
The people of Hua woke at night, birds mocked and jeered.
Women fled, clutching children, supporting white-haired heads;
The common folk looked up and cried, the emperor worried.
Gathering followers like ants, a million strong;
A thousand gold swept away like floating bubbles.
Heaven turned, sea boiled, stirring the nine provinces;
Then this tripod emerged, left in the world of men.
The people of Hua obtained it but dared not keep it;
Its strange form, ancient substance, unmatched in modern times.
A vessel too large for use, the discerning do not know it;
Shown to the vulgar world, it met with scorn and mockery.
In the bright hall, assembled courtiers feasted lords;
Officers of the kitchen had ranks to serve the king's delicacies.
Seasoned with five flavors, a whole ox was cooked;
Sometimes used, sometimes discarded—I have no demands.
A few scholars study carving jade and gems;
Seeing it, first startled, then sighed within, distressed.
Clearing the wilds, cutting into antiquity, vying in exhaustive search;
Bitter words hard to utter, voices whimpering and moaning.
The horse-chart emerged from the river, the turtle bore the script;
Since ancient times, strange tales—how they stretch on and on!
Alas, I am old and cannot rest;
I force myself to write this poem, ashamed to imitate others.