My life has been scant of sons and daughters;
You, my child, now stand as the eldest.
Gentle and kind, with few words spoken,
Your nature is true, not feigned or forced.
A daughter must leave, when she is grown;
Her parents cannot keep her forever.
Married and gone to another land,
How can we stay close, together?
But happily, your husband is worthy,
Pure and good, a true match for you.
Leaving home, Heaven made him your lord;
Ritual and law have long held this true.
Your aunt is my own younger sister,
Her husband is thus your uncle too.
Serve your uncle as you would your father,
And serve your aunt as you would your mother.
If in these three duties you lack nothing,
Then you will have no great fault to answer.
Within the home, there are elders to honor;
Outside, there are kin and friends to cherish.
At seasons, send gifts or offer aid;
In sacrifices, hasten to assist.
If in all these, no discord arises,
You may escape your father's disgrace.
To rule a house, be diligent and frugal;
Facing wealth, guard against taking too much.
Recite the classics, savor their principles—
The sage's heart can indeed be fathomed.
In daily matters, remember kindness and harmony;
Do not merely toil with lips and tongue.
Care well for Yu and Chan, my two grandsons;
They are my pearls, my treasures rare.
You married far away from home;
And I was exiled to a distant place.
Eastward, eighteen stages lie;
Westward, twenty-nine you'd trace.
Three or four thousand li between us,
Yet I see our hall as through a window.
Life's adversity and ease,
Are like night following day.
But if your path is without fault,
You'll feel no shame, come what may.
I recall when you were newly born,
My heart was burdened with a debt.
I thought: serving one's sovereign as minister
Is like a son serving his father.
When peril strikes the inner chambers,
Who does not grieve in solitude?
Pushing forth that love-for-father heart,
Who would not step forward, laid bare?
Fortunate to be born a man,
I pledged to serve the state, with office bound.
How could I stand by, cold-eyed,
And never once speak out?
Memorials I sent, ten times and more,
Not shunning cauldron or axe.
Though exiled to the southern wilds,
Ten thousand deaths were spared by grace.
Step by step, I left the capital gate,
My mother's horse? I went on foot.
You were not yet three months old,
Still wrapped in swaddling, nursing then.
Snowflakes fell like goose feathers,
Frost-eaves hung with frozen drips.
Your mother gathered you close,
The bitter wind cracked both her elbows.
Hurrying on, barely through the time,
Coarse fare I dared not spit out.
Late spring brought me to the place of exile,
The Year of the Hare soon turned to Ox.
You were then twelve years of age,
Beginning slightly to learn needle and thread.
That year, the true dragon leaped,
The double brightness ascended the throne.
Deep grace covered the distant wastes,
Seeping even to the withered and rotten.
Receiving orders, I went to visit kin,
Taking the sea route for convenience.
Having seen your aunt's virtue,
You became the Wu family's bride.
I, because of another's case,
Was banished again, following the old pattern.
Others might dread a second exile,
The road perhaps causing furrowed brows.
But with a subject's heart,
I viewed it as an honor bestowed.
If life knows no hardship or peril,
What place for fervor and resolve?
Moreover, retracing the former way,
I saw again the post welcoming the worthy.
For a month or so we were together,
Heaven granted this fortune, truly kind.
The sovereign's command cannot be delayed;
Once recovered, I must gallop on.
North and south, leaving is ever changing;
I only pray each finds peace and longevity.
Lifting a foot, think of your own person;
Walking in darkness as in bright day.
And also in the watches of the night,
Admonish and warn your noble husband.
Divine spirits rely on uprightness;
They bless only the benevolent and filial.
Letters may come and go between us,
Let me know you suffer no illness or pain.
As a wife and as a mother,
Do not lag behind others.
Surely then the whole house will rejoice,
Celebrating together with great cups of wine.
Better than torrents of weeping tears,
A single cup at parting's time.