Twelve prefectures of the Western River, since old times have heard bandit alarms.
Scanning the map to view the upper reaches, the Dong customs are known as most stubborn.
Killing they treat as child's play, plundering freely like wolves and fierce beasts.
To the right connecting Kongtong eastward, to the left joining Plum Blossom Ridge.
Chen and Gui pass through the armpit and elbow, holding each other, easy to gallop across.
Their lair gathers in one county, poison flows fiercely through four borders.
In the spring of Baoyou's wuwu year, the Tong and Shi ran wild, unrestrained.
Spreading into summer and autumn, a festering boil formed on the neck.
Settlements scorched at Jiao Mountain stronghold, markets empty, stoves and wells deserted.
Fields silent, no lowing of oxen, roads still, no trace of human shadows.
Burning and looting beyond reckoning, hearing of it chokes the throat with grief.
Grand Administrator Zhao, with a single-minded thought, urgently sought to rescue and save.
Orders moved secretly with arrangements, discipline ensured strict and orderly.
Under the commander's seal, elite troops were chosen, to exterminate, awe-inspiring with raised clubs.
The vicious ugliness, evil already full, slaughter and capture still showed their force.
Leading troops, commanding the prefectural generals, directing the assault swift as thunderbolts.
Straight they stormed Jiangkeng's camp, blades crossed in a moment of life and death.
Pincer attack rushed like gods, bandits routed, fleeing in chaos through the fields.
Baggage abandoned in brambles and thorns, heads piled high, a multitude of leaders.
Righteous volunteers combed the mountains in groups, capturing and binding, half were fierce and bold.
Heaven willed their chieftain be annihilated, the sun's essence then shone bright and clear.
What name indeed for the hive of hornets? The flowery beast also ends in a pit.
Considering you share the same universe, how can you willingly join with dogs and sheep?
Like drunkards drinking more wine, forgetting life, unaware of waking.
The sage's virtue spreads wide and soaks all, the emperor's heart is deeply pained and anxious.
Creation opens a path of life, spring entrusts itself to snow and frost's chill.