The great Han was not yet settled,
The strong Qin still held the stage.
The struggle for the Central Plains ended,
Emperor Gaozu rose like a dragon.
He planned the imperial seat's beginning,
Here the Weiyang Palace stood grand.
Its scale exhausted all architecture,
Its walls and moats were dug deep.
The lords revered the Palace of Lasting Joy,
The court added the Jianzhang Palace.
The Hooked Array was adorned with weapon racks,
The Music Bureau played in the Hall of Mushrooms.
Jadeite and pearl curtains,
Mandarin ducks in white jade halls.
At dawn, meals from precious tripods,
In quiet night, the scent of tulip.
Heavenly horses came from the east,
Beauties charmed the northern lands.
How glorious and prosperous it was,
They thought it would last forever.
But fate's number has its end,
Emperors Ai and Ping lamented decline.
Ice hardened into great treachery,
The Fire Virtue's order crumbled.
The high seat is not gained in vain,
Those who usurp Heaven's mandate perish swiftly.
Souls cry out to the altars of state,
Jackals and tigers fight in the corridors.
The golden statues moved to Ba's shore,
The bronze plate turned toward Luoyang.
The sovereign has no place now,
The era is desolate and long.
Whose domain are these palaces?
Brambles tangle my robe.
The well-field system has only weeds,
The sea has turned to mulberry fields.
Where once were lofty gates,
Now are crossroads by the wayside.
The remaining foundations cannot be recognized,
Ancient tombs stand in rows.
Foxes and hares startle ghosts,
Owls and screech-owls frighten madmen.
The empty city, cold day wanes,
The plain, evening clouds turn yellow.
Fiercely burn the green thorns,
Soughing blows through white poplars.
For a thousand autumns and ten thousand years,
Only songs of sorrow remain.