In Wei there was a righteous man, Feng Yan,
A roaming knight from You and Bing, youngest and finest.
Fleeing a foe, he chanced to be a guest in Huatai,
Whistling in the wind, his horse pranced gracefully.
Then he met the season of orioles and flowers,
On the embankment, carriages never ceased by day.
From tall buildings on both sides, talk and laughter,
Pointing at passersby, secret affections formed.
Who wouldn't admire a Pan An with fruit thrown at him?
Behind vermilion gates, rouge and powder showed.
Deliberately pushing the door, it wouldn't open,
As if letting creaks convey words.
Feng tapped his stirrup, sleeves hiding his whip,
Half brushing weeping willows, half stirring mist.
Spring birds in trees knew human intent,
Clearly conveying secret hopes.
It's said Zhang Ying was fond of wine,
Hence her fragrant chamber became mine.
Guest swallows between beams truly deceived,
Turtledoves on the roof fought in vain.
Ying returned, drunk and asleep, not your enemy,
How could she know the guilty one harbored fear?
Yan leaned on the door, wishing to sneak away,
The scarf by the pillow, ordered to be fetched.
Who says a wolfish heart can endure?
When my love is deep, feelings won't hide.
Turning back, fetching the scarf seemed hard,
Only when the hilt reversed did he receive the frosty blade.
Feng, stroking his sword, hesitated at once,
Reflecting on a lifetime of honest heart.
You who could betray her will surely betray me,
If through another's hand, then upon whom?
The red beauty by the window could still be held,
Gazing long at the flowery hairpin, love felt insufficient.
Only with great righteousness could he sever his heart,
Her powdered neck first turned like cut jade.
Phoenix hairpins shattered, each flying apart,
Where to chase the resentful soul, the delicate spirit?
Like Lingbo summoned to roam Golden Valley,
Ashamed of their teasing, tears soaked her clothes.
The new lover hid, the old one rose,
Daylight cries and shouts alarmed the neighbors.
Falsely accusing Zhang Ying, who couldn't clear himself,
To avoid torture before death, deemed precious.
Officials heading to the market, shrouded in red dust,
Swinging arms, people came pushing to see.
Spread the word: let there be no wrongful conviction,
The thief who killed Ying's household is myself.
Hearing this, clerks first doubted and sighed,
Scolding his madness, his words unchanged.
The bound prisoner, freed, still doubted himself,
Suspecting it was a dream where he escaped.
Before death, I urge you not to speak rashly,
Facing danger without regard, one learns the difficulty.
Already acting against injustice, able to forsake love,
He further gave his life to save a deep wrong.
The virtuous lord of White Horse, Minister Jia,
Long hung gold and silk to recruit heroes.
Presented a petition to ransom Feng Yan's crime,
For ages, the Three Rivers stirred with righteous wind.
The Yellow River flows east without rest,
Pouring out all its waves, his name won't perish.
Moved by the poet Shen Xiaxian,
This long song explains it more clearly.
This man's pure spirit is known to remain,
Long leaving a bright warning for the world.
Cast a golden swallow, pile incense high,
Burn incense, offer wine, and listen to songs.