On the second day of the tenth month, I journey west of Pengzhou.
Thirty li away there is a lodge, a lodge named Fangxi.
The dilapidated post-house walls are crumbling, fresh rain turns fields to mud.
I have been ill for over a hundred days, my body emaciated as if carved.
Choked with gloom, I eat no supper, early I close my humble door.
The cold and damp afflict my bones, deep into night the lamp burns low.
Suddenly sleep becomes a dream, vividly I see a face like jade.
As if sighing over long separation, mournful and full of sorrow.
Asking me what sickness pains me, and sighing why I drift so restlessly.
I reply that phlegm has stagnated long, and I am estranged from the world.
He insists phlegm is a minor ailment, good medicine surely can expel it.
Previously, receiving tangerine pills, they worked wonders against disease.
Why not harmonize the treatment well, is it only wind in the head?
All the earnest affairs of my life, each detail left unfinished.
Joy and sorrow reach both extremes, thus half a day is spent.
Having spoken, we walk together, walking on to the ancient town.
Walking with us is another man, I do not know whose son he is.
Suddenly an urgent clerk approaches, calling, wishing us to halt.
He hastens before the Minister, bows twice and rises again.
Announcing the clerk has orders,奉命 to convey a command.
A matter of great alarm and haste, none but you, sir, can manage.
I reply long in retirement, unwilling to meet laboring envoys.
Many thanks for your diligence, I dare not simply comply.
Because of my earlier advice, this matter's folly I can foresee.
Chaotic heat is quelled by stillness, managing complexity lies in grasping essentials.
You are like the winter sun, rushing forth need not be summoned.
You are like a bronze mirror bright, all things can be reflected.
I beg you promise the common folk, no more lofty airs and tone.
The Minister does not answer me, only looks at me with repeated smiles.
Walking on to the city gate, dim remains the setting sun's glow.
The Minister does not answer me, orders me to return from here.
I cannot recall parting words, only remember tears streaming down.
Waking, my body soaked in sweat, sitting or lying, heart and bones grieve.
Flickering lamp against the wall, clucking hens leave their roost.
The weary servant sleeps upside down, my tears fall in crisscross streams.
Tears fall, sobbing does not cease, not ceasing, sobbing turns to sound.
The sound of sobbing wakes the servants, servants stir in confused alarm.
Asking what pains me so, asking what occupies my thoughts.
I too cannot speak, bleak is the fork in the road ahead.
Earlier passing Xin Zheng county, tonight again tomorrow's dawn.
Depression fills my heart's breath, I cannot speak of it to anyone.
How strange, Magistrate Zhao, wonders why my brows are not relaxed.
Says a monk has come from the north, staying here a month and ten days.
Claims he can discern noble bone, says he recognizes innate truth.
Talks of travel, wastes secluded scenes, why not go to him promptly?
The monk comes to speak with me, his words touch on what I once knew.
He says he has a wondrous hit: before Minister Pei became minister.
Studying at Ling Mountain Temple, his dwelling joined the garden fence.
Pointing, he said future nobility, the moment seemed fixed and sure.
Hearing the monk's words, I cannot help but weep and sigh.
Thus I speak of last night's dream, no one to share it with.
Could it be Minister Pei, mindful of the spirit in my breast?
Sending this master with these words, making me recount all past events.
The monk asks, what was his kinship, that his words bring endless tears?
I say he knew me deeply,不幸 he died before me.
The monk says, Minister Pei, how many showed such grace as you?
I say, in the surging multitude, lovers of rectitude are many.
Only I and Bai Juyi, share the same sense of encounter.
Official studies not in same time, born and raised in different lands.
He lifted me from dust and dirt, made my name fair and fine.
A fair name, what is it worth? Deep bond began from this.
Promoting me, none did before; stubborn and crude, he did not despise.
Often to Minister Pei's gate, yet for years I never stepped inside.
The minister's gate hosts many streams, much praise and much slander too.
Like wind blowing over dust, unmoving water in the well.
Before, when I served in Jing, he hoped to rise again.
Since Minister Pei is gone, my path willingly ends here.
Bai Juyi's way is also lone, slander consumes him to the marrow.
Sima in Jiujiang city, no one speaks a word of reason.
For this master I relate bitter words, wiping tears that drench my ten fingers.
Until death, I'll repay his grace, Master, hear this man's vow.