Alas, the world's course is so tangled and dim,
Why must the aged sages not be left with us?
To mend a vast murk with a tiny piece of glue,
Who would join hands with me to set things right?
He lived with restraint, treading the path of old worthies,
Not for showy bluntness nor to follow the times.
From westernmost Cassia to eastern Wu's realm,
He traversed the southern lands, galloping all around.
He prized frugality and love for the people,
And made quiet dignity his awe-inspiring might.
His virtue was upright, broad, his talent deep and vast—
Thus he won the close regard of those above.
Just as he gained greater weight within the court,
A sudden illness seized and bore him down.
Yet still he yearned to wield his pen, to edit and compose,
His vast ambition for the annals left unfulfilled.
His drafts pile up like mountains, high and steep,
Who now will carry on, who will uphold his task?
To lose a master of our era's grandest texts,
Makes one doubt Heaven's fondness for perfection.
Alas, the model set by Xiuzhai now is gone,
I can but sing this long lament, and then be done.
In youth I loved these rare and curious robes,
Now slowly, slowly, my hair has turned to frost.
I mourn my halting steps, my fate so often odd,
Content in a poor lane with gourd and bowl.
He alone pitied my lonely, fallen state,
And gathered distant blooms of subtle fragrance.
Off he'd express his care, extend his warm regard,
Never letting distance hinder his kind word.
He halted his Wu journey, westward came to me,
And bowed before the depths of noble conduct.
He drank the purest dew in Pine Studio,
And feasted on the orchid's grace, seated in song.
The phoenix soared too high to be held back,
I gaze afar, the road is long and endless.
How could the news be so unkind, so harsh?
Shocked, I learn he rode the Winnowing‑Basket, became immortal.
I gaze upon the Long River, heave a sigh,
My tears flow ceaselessly, my mind lost in a haze.
I stroke the great works, the legacy he left,
My spirit flies to those fine paths of learning's sea.
I think how the year's cycle soon will close,
But what to do? A wild wind shakes the sky.