Master Jade River lives within Luoyang's walls,
With only a few ramshackle rooms, that's all.
One servant, long-bearded, never wraps his head,
One maid, barefoot, old and toothless.
He toils to support more than ten souls,
Above are kind parents, below wife and children.
Since tying his hair, he's loathed the vulgar crowd,
Shut his door, not stepped out for a full twelve years.
Till now, neighboring monks beg rice to send him,
As county magistrate, I can't but feel shame.
My salary covers public and private needs,
At times I send a little to aid his rites.
I urged him to visit the high officials,
But at mere mention, he covers his ears.
The Hermit north of the river gained fame,
Last year left to serve under a governor's tent.
The Hermit south of the river followed suit,
His horse and retinue clogged the village lanes.
The Hermit of Shaoshi sets a high price,
Twice summoned as advisor, he did not rise.
They all gabble and debate worldly affairs,
Having power, yet cannot avoid being driven.
Master's future cannot be measured,
He only uses laws to discipline himself.
The three commentaries on Spring and Autumn are shelved high,
Alone he embraces the classic, probing start to end.
In past years, wielding his pen, he mocked similarities and differences,
Strange words startled the crowd, slander never ceased.
Lately he claims to seek a smooth path,
Yet still mounts the void astride a green steed.
Last year a son was born, named 'Add-a-Laborer',
Meant to join the state in plowing and sowing.
The state's laborers span the four seas,
Are there no farmers to handle plow and share?
Master, holding talent, will be greatly used in the end,
Unless the prime minister approves, he will not serve.
Even if not in the ranks of those exerting strength,
Establishing words, leaving a model, is also reliable.
His descendants should receive pardon for ten generations,
How can one say he leaves no foundation?
Thus we know loyalty and filial piety are born of nature,
Purifying oneself, confusing ethics—how can that compare?
Last night the long-bearded servant came to submit a plea,
The wicked youths next door are unbearably vile.
They often ride the roof ridge, peeping down,
The whole household flees in terror, spraining toes.
Relying on marriage ties, they bully officials,
Not believing orders can enforce a ban.
The master, wronged, had never spoken,
Suddenly this report surely has cause.
Alas, I am the magistrate of this county,
Holding power but not using it, what do I await?
I summoned the thief-catchers, called the constables,
To seize all those rat-fellows and display their corpses in the market.
The master again sent the long-bearded one,
Such handling was not to his liking.
Moreover, it's the season of growth and nurture,
The capital should not be ruled with harsh governance.
The master is truly one I hold in awe,
His measure I dare not glimpse, its bounds unknown.
Whose fault is this indulgence?
Following bad examples, punishing servants, I shame past histories.
I bought a sheep, bought wine to apologize for my rashness,
By chance, bright moonlight shone on peach and plum.
The master indicated he might condescend to visit,
And again sent the long-bearded one with a pair of carp.