I came to govern Qingyuan, and recognized two Chen's starry light.
The elder Chen is like gold and jade, his home pure, free from dust's blight.
He tired of the world and would not stay; till now, his village praises his benevolence.
A Confucian scholar, former Hezhou governor, his talent surpassed all common sense.
His mind embraced past and present; his brush truly held divine might.
Effortlessly he took the highest rank, his hair and teeth still in youth's prime.
His fame filled all under heaven; his writings startled the gentry's line.
Toiling briefly in prefectures and counties, he should stride to pivotal heights.
Yet time has slipped until today; this ambition remains unfulfilled in sight.
The true man tends the incense fire; the lonely temple holds sorrow and plight.
He extends his lecture seat to students, scolds the ancients over yellowed scrolls.
Rebuking heresies of Buddha and Laozi, our Way sings through Mencius and Xun's roles.
He barely relies on modest gifts, to slightly aid his pouch's poverty.
I, unworthy of a governor's rank, for two years shepherded these people here.
Unable to assist the Jade Stream, I'm ashamed to be compared with Han Yu, clear.
He gifted me poems and prose, each word a treasure to hold dear.
Your praise and honor are too generous; my gratitude is hard to declare.
I wish you, sir, to take good care; when you go forth, you'll offer your person to the state.
Your disciples include the highest achievers; in court, they'll manage affairs with skill and weight.
Fang and Wei just gained their lord's trust; how could they forget the teachings of河汾's gate?