In the south, he cultivates civil virtue;
In the east, Wu submits its land and borders.
The common folk yearn for nurturing care;
The crimson edict seeks a good and honest man.
At the Crow Office, a new post is assumed;
The laurel of the Dragon Head retains its old fragrance.
Crossing the river, his piebald horse grows lean;
His embroidered robe hangs long, brushing the ground.
In the Secretariat, his talent feels constrained;
Yet Suzhou's customs are sure to thrive.
His grace flows like a cartload of rain;
His awe is as stern as frost in the Cypress Terrace.
On leave, he seeks mountain temples;
In spring outings, he moors by wild ponds.
Lord Bai was the former governor;
Lu Wang had his mulberry fields here.
Though keen to relieve the people's suffering,
How could nurturing spirit hinder the Way?
He brews tea from Tiger Hill's well;
Pounds herbs in the Magnolia Hall.
Bamboo shoots and ferns supply the household meal;
In garden woods, he dons a Daoist robe.
He taps his bamboo staff, teaching cranes to dance;
Gathers tangerines, waiting for monks to taste.
To greet envoys, court robes are neatly worn;
To entertain guests, splendid mats are spread.
The barking of dogs fades in the lanes;
The oriole's tongue stirs reed-pipe music.
Cool verses inscribed on autumn leaves;
A lone lute stored in a night bag.
Song towers pale under the cold moon;
Drinking boats cool on evening waves.
Official duties: removing harsh laws;
Family tradition: inheriting elegant writings.
The unicorn cap sternly rectifies matters;
The ivory tablet lies drunk across the bed.
The bear-carriage delay won't be long;
The turtle-head fame will grow more fragrant.
In the South Garden, cease summoning companions;
At the North Gate, summons for Huang soon come.
Who sees his noble purity?
Meeting fortune, one must strive stronger.
Governing people, I belong to his county;
In awe of his virtue, I hug the wall each time.
Knowing the vast gap in rank and fame,
Lonely and precarious, I await recommendation.
Don't sigh too deeply at bending the waist;
The green-eyed regard is extraordinary.
Mount Tai accommodates a fist-sized stone;
The vast sea admits an overflowing cup.
If the whirlwind lends convenience,
Wings are bound to soar high.
Staff positions are mostly vacant;
Vain efforts leave traces of sorrow.
Though the Golden Terrace was built anew,
Pearl-shod feet have yet to form a line.
Guo Wei's earlier words remain;
Following Liu, later advances shine.
Lest in the annals of history,
Only King Yan is praised in vain.