The pipa has eighty-one palace modes,
Yet three rotated modes remain unplayed.
Emperor Xuanzong favored He Huaizhi,
But Master Duan's skill was just as great.
Later, finger-plucking style declined,
Kunlun's fine talents were but in vain.
Few sounds roared like thunder anymore,
Silk strings dared not strike the sheepskin plain.
Strange things in this world will follow one another,
Like having a Bian He but no jade.
Master Duan had dozens of disciples,
Li's Guan'er was praised as top-grade.
Guan'er did not become a court musician,
Cast aside in Luoyang, hair turned grey.
Meeting people, he'd ask for a cup of wine,
Exhausting his craft, unknown all day.
The Li brothers all loved their liquor,
I, a drinker, was their close friend.
Scholar Zuozuo once invited us to stay overnight,
Grinding spring tea by the stream, fresh green without end.
At dawn, a boat carried Guan'er away,
All day we listened to endless tunes play.
The tune names endless, few know them well,
Rainbow Skirt and Feather Robe so gracefully swell.
Liangzhou's grand suite is most clamorous and loud,
Six Yao's prelude, fingers twirl and crowd.
Hearing this tune, I deeply marveled at its art,
My marvel at its wonder startled Guan'er's heart.
Guan'er shed twin tears for me,
Playing this tune, long in sorrow he'd be.
Tears fell, dampening red strings and plectrum guard,
Like icy springs sobbing, orioles' song hard.
Thus he played 'Rain Bell' in a mournful strain,
Windswept rain desolate, making ghosts complain.
One play ended, then another began,
Pearl banners in still night, wind softly ran.
Low and slow, thoughts of frontier passes rise,
Sitting facing Mount Yanran under autumn moon's cold skies.
Moon cold, a deep palace chime sounds alone,
Suddenly the tune breaks, notes densely thrown.
A million golden bells spin on jade plates,
Drunken guests on the boat all briefly awake.
Since then, six or seven years have passed,
Guan'er in Luoyang, I to court went fast.
My thoughts wandered to Ci'en Temple's apricot grove,
Dreaming before benevolent breeze and flowering trees above.
Last year, as censor, detained in eastern post,
Public and private pressures, my face was lost.
This spring, prison cases in chaotic mess,
Day and night judging prisoners, heart in distress.
I paused my return to seek Scholar Zuozuo,
In his southern garden, flower buds start to grow.
Rouge-bright peaches blush in red array,
Snowflake plums by the stream have fallen away.
That evening, youth met the full moon's gleam,
Flower branches toward moon, clouds hold a dream.
Zuozuo set out wine, called Guan'er near,
Guan'er, long parted, now did appear.
Guan'er again played the Six Yao tune,
Six Yao's sound, as ever, rose to the moon.
Gibbons cry from snowy peaks, Three Gorges' call,
Cranes cry in clear sky, through ninth heaven's hall.
Gradually, Six Yao reached its complete state,
Like frosty blade splitting bamboo, no joint left late.
Dark pass creaks, northern geese mournfully cry,
String snaps with a crack, layered ice splits high.
I, filled with grief, sighed at this wondrous feat,
Promised to write this long song, start to end complete.
Art wondrous, thought simple, worldly affairs many,
Promised years of heat and cold have passed any.
Now demoted to idleness, here I stay,
So for Guan'er I sing this song today.
Sing this song, send to Guan'er,
Guan'er, Guan'er, I fear your decline.
After you decline, who will succeed?
Successor perhaps lies in Tieshan's line.
Tieshan is near Cao and Mu's domain,
Talent fine, but skill still shallow and plain.
In urgent parts, he can't reach serene art,
Strive hard, Tieshan, learn with all your heart,
Lest those after have no master to impart.