Your pure style, like an ice pot, stands apart,
At first sight washes off the sweltering heat.
Especially with north window's breeze that blows,
All day it offers words refined and sweet.
While vulgar tunes clamor to fill the sky,
Suddenly I hear this ancient music's beat.
It makes my lifelong ailment, at once,
Unable to be cured by stone's retreat.
Though I am foolish, cut off from the crowd,
Would my will ever stoop to a mouse's feat?
How then the pact beneath the city wall,
So gladly for you I would make complete?
Look, when the timely rain is about to fall,
It moistens first the pillar's base, discreet.
Is it not that force makes it so? Yet,
Silent feeling, hard to block, is fleet.
The high hall long has kept a couch suspended,
The precious sword already pledged in mind.
Last night we shared the lamplight, close and blended,
Today like stars apart, we're left behind.
Autumn mood enters the wutong tree,
Dripping, it vies with east wing, unconfined.
Next door, do not come before my gate,
Thinking of your first journey, undefined.
Snake's shadow, do not doubt like fox's fear,
Think rather of the pestle that bites pickles' kind.
Mulberry and蓬arrow point to all four ways,
Career lies in Yi and Lü's grand design.
Unlike a stone, how can it be turned?
Let the common folk fuss, line by line.
I only wish for early clear skies,
To join without a clash or a decline.
Further I invite Master Jingjie,
To together enrich brush and paper fine.
Morning and evening among classics' lore,
Truly know how to plant grain and vine.
In future years, Yang Zi's wife, how could
She cut the loom's thread, leaving work to pine?
If your mat indeed is not to share,
I know to flee from you, this sign.