Far back before the Five Lords' reign,
I've read the Two Canons' words plain.
In the Three Kings' era, bright and clear,
I've read the Two Ya odes sincere.
When virtue was both pure and deep,
How glorious their fame did keep!
Like scattered rays of blazing sun,
Like thunder's roar, their deeds were done.
Displayed, they soared like dragons high;
Concealed, like coiling serpents lie.
They followed past and set the norm,
Our only teachers since that form.
Alas! Since those Two Canons' age,
All teachings fell in disengage.
And after those Two Ya's decline,
The Six Arts lost their clear design.
For over a thousand years, so bare,
Who held the falling world with care?
Then rose Master Han, bold and grand,
With Zhou and Confucius' noble stand.
He cleared the thorns to open the way,
To chase the ancients, night and day.
He traced the stream up to its source,
Where Dao meets its eternal course.
The Three Mounds speak of greatness vast;
The Ten Wings make the subtle last.
Master Han wrote with his pen,
Leaving nothing out, again.
Spring and Autumn's kingly law,
Three thousand rites, without a flaw,
The Master bore them with his might,
Both great and small held in his sight.
Yang and Mo's doctrines fell in shame,
Their ugliness exposed to blame.
Buddha and Laozi's paths did sway,
Then faded to barbaric way.
The gentle plan to quell Cai's strife,
Brought peace to Huaixi, saved their life.
The stern essay to drive crocs hence,
Brought Chaozhou folk deliverance.
His mind merged with the primal force,
His merit matched heaven's course.
Abundant, the sound of ordered reign;
Solid, the kingly rule's domain.
Opposed, you get dark tyrants' plight;
Followed, you get sage kings' light.