Liang, free and unconstrained in spirit,
His vigor outshone Chang'an's youth when in despair.
He turns his head, gaze fierce like eagle's,
Who knows his ambition to soar and cry?
Though past forty with no official rank,
He once served as secretary in a great army.
He protested, asked for sword to punish troops,
Argued sternly on war, offending two commanders.
One word at odds with the Marquis of Long'e,
He drew sword, brushed his robe, and left thenceforth.
Day after day he drank at Huang's wine shop,
Bareheaded, shouting loudly in contention.
In the yard, his apron once hung;
Does the jade in his bosom remain now?
People saw him mostly down and out,
All laughed his wild songs showed no long vision.
Suddenly he leaps onto his purple steed,
Still a towering, imposing man of stature.
On Luoyang's walls, dawn frost gleams white,
Layers of ice tower high, filling streams and marshes.
Only hear him chant new poems on the road,
Not sighing his family lacks a peck of grain.
Say not poverty can long be scorned—
A basket piled becomes a mountain in time.
Say not wealth can long be relied upon—
Hibiscus blooms at dawn, by dusk has fallen.
Have you not seen the old man of the frontier past?
Rise and fall, as ever, are left to Heaven's will.
Go, go, on vast waves, speak no more—
The Five Lakes and Three Rivers grieve one to death.