Have you not seen the palace guards at night in eight camps?
Morning drums thunder toward vermilion gates.
Frosty guards at jade steps not yet assembled,
The young man pushes into the Bronze Dragon Gate.
Secretly hears music from the ninth heaven,
Palace water clock drips, clear flutes abound.
At dawn he gallops, blocking the royal road,
Calling hawks, carrying slingshots, through winding walls.
Raises fledglings in jade cages with golden locks,
Takes eggs with young nobles for fun.
Divides teams for dice games, thrilled with one throw,
Anticipates pleasure, laughter and chatter loud.
Skillfully learns flattery like You Meng,
In scholar's robe, plays like a capped monkey.
At dusk, through fragrant streets and Willow Market,
Passes brothels, stays at Taogen's place.
Meeting over wine, a single word amiss,
Red turned to white, heard by the Emperor.
The powerful Jin, Zhang, Xu, Shi watch his mood,
No prince, marquis, general dares to comment.
Who knows human affairs lack fixed power?
Morning joy, evening grief, like a palm turned.
Favor shifts in the pepper chamber, a son's love lost,
An autumn wind rises overnight in Li Garden.
In vain he uses gold to buy a rhapsody,
Unaware white jade secretly bears a scar.
Holding a cup to retrieve spilled water,
Moving firewood to avoid flames, fire flares more.
Wishing to seek the Four Elders and Chancellor Zhang,
But South Mountain is like heaven, impossible to ascend.