Guangling, the Sui emperor's capital of yore,
Backs the vast sea and holds the rivers' shore.
The river parts green hills, the lake gleams white,
A fertile land stretching a thousand li in sight.
In crimson halls and jade gardens, moonlit nights we'd roam,
Through winding valley woods, autumn suns found their home.
Exquisite words and clever phrases, boundless in art,
Grand deeds often open the heavenly chart.
My ancestor served three years in high command,
When culture flourished at Kaiyuan's opening hand.
Before the Hall of Four Unions, tree peonies grew,
Below Little Golden Hill, patterned carriages drew.
Sorrowful pipes soared to the sky, melodies new and tender,
Powdered faces mirrored in water, robes graceful and slender.
In youth, with soaring spirit, I would not yield,
Wishing barehanded a fierce tiger to wield.
The elder said learning's steps cannot be leapt,
Bade me don scholar's robe and over classics kept.
I joined the ranks of students at the county school,
And saw scholars in robes, observing the rule.
Then like a swallow's jaw, your talent did appear,
All eyes turned to glimpse a Chen or Wu, so dear.
A lone bear then chose silence, keeping apart,
While homely maids still vied for beauty's art.
By clinging to the rock, your brilliance came to light,
Startling the dusty casket, a pearl shining bright.
Comrades passed round and chanted your plum-blossom verse,
Knowing your name would grace fine rugs, and even worse.
We parted, our homes but a year's span away,
Indeed I saw tribute baskets lead the way.
The lofty hall despises lengthy, cautious plans,
Resplendent fame scoffs at the bookish clans.
Penglai, by the sea, connects to outer lands,
Quelling giant waves, displaying mighty hands.
Soaring, you found your path with ease and grace,
Yet also stumbled through a rugged, barren place.
At twenty, I first donned the cap of man,
My family met disaster, to Huai's corner ran.
Toiling through journeys of ten thousand li or more,
My lofty aspirations faded, dreams of yore.
Returning to party schools, to compare and debate,
Hair and teeth now strong, my head I'd decorate.
For ten years I hesitated, no memorial sent,
Village women and children mocked, on laughter bent.
Nearing forty, by chance, I passed the exam's test,
My ruddy face had changed, no youthful zest.
An office thence I followed, documents in flow,
Through nine deaths and ten lives, among rats I'd go.
Temple duties, incense smoke—outside the chain,
Inspecting omens, viewing steps, weary and in pain.
I'd heard you served in west Shu, long ago,
Your duckweed trace drifted to east Wu, you know.
Gazing far, longing to meet, a distant thought,
How could I grow wings, before the sun was brought?
By chance, my wife's kin had a relative near,
An office ruling a commune, south capital clear.
Word came: the marrying sister found a rare man,
Then knew you ate the fish of southern span.
I then in winter dwelt in a poor abode,
Joy's warmth dispelled the cold, on that rough road.
Who knew old age would bring us kin by marriage tie,
From that day, hoping to see twin wild ducks fly.
Life's meetings truly are hard to foresee,
A short note sent first, for more than years three.
This morning I received your year-end account,
Counting old deeds, discussing fields we'd surmount.
We share feelings, regrets, and the years gone by,
Discuss classics, grasp truth, distinguish low and high.
Since Master Kong died, the Way has been blocked,
For a thousand years, the ancient vessels rocked.
A hundred schools search and sing, weird and strange,
Determined to trim away the bramble's range.
Like setting out to ask about the long road,
Drowning, crushed, no moment's pause bestowed.
You now know the way and drum up courage anew,
Straight to the settled place, without ado.
Penglai uncle has passed, his memory dim,
Yangzhou's old scholars mostly sank or swim.
Now I am fifty-six, four winters spent,
You rushed ahead, where seasons came and went.
My son though wed, my daughter not yet a bride,
How does my spirit with yours multiply or divide?
When by cold window share we wine and cheer,
To warm our ears and sing aloud, both far and near?