How can the Ice Well be without water?
It stands opposite the Volcano's fire.
The true Governor blessed the people of Wu, bestowing a name that fits the pair.
The fiery nature of flame, wherever it goes, can bring harm.
Ice suppresses its fierce breath, turning misfortune into peace and prosperity.
When auspicious light appears, the people of the prefecture share in the blessing.
Even the well seems like ice, its meaning lies therein.
I come to draw from the Ice Well, its beauty rivals the morning dew.
At first I thought it a vein from Penglai Isle, then deemed it akin to a forest spring.
If the well's opening remains as before, its ancient foundation is lost and obscure.
Half buried by earth and smoke, half ruined by broken stones.
Upon first arriving, I had no time to repair the decay.
The prefectural city's hundred dwellings in disrepair, how could creation be delayed?
Renew the old, cover the exposed.
Raise the low and muddy, expand the narrow and small.
No encroachment upon the public, no debt to private gain.
With sincerity and planning, I toiled diligently for three years.
Thinking back to the well's foundation, instructed by many elders.
Stretched the rope for straightness, set markers to fix its bounds.
Digging more than three feet, we met the ancient base.
The western side was solidly paved, its bounds not strange to the well.
Three corners faintly seen, the bricklayer slowly mends.
This well indeed has divinity, the people marvel and sigh.
Before the well, we opened a pond, channeled water into ditches.
To guard against the dog days, when drinkers come in crowds.
The well's name not yet erased, by me its obscurity is lifted.
□□□□□, worried only that the scale was too confined.
Cut cliffs to base the pit, felled trees to clear the wilds.
Adorned by nature's hand, it becomes the prefecture's fine view.
Blue pond at the temple's belly, green hills at the temple's back.
Encircling emerald controls the flow, spring water like a girdle.
Three treasures mixed in solemn array, seven treasures old and bold.
Facing afar the Divine Empyrean, stepping out far from the market's din.
Ascending adds to its worth, gazing without common air.
Often townsfolk come, as if inside a jade pot.
Often scholars come, as if freed from worldly cages.
I often lead guests here, five horses follow twin banners.
Briefly shed the clerk's scarf, suddenly without hindrance.
Soothe the spirit to the eight extremes, cleanse the body in the clear breeze.
By the pond as in a mountain stream, drunkenness I always shun.
Often making journeys like Duke Xie, dare I hope for the common folk's regard?
Though no extraordinary deeds, I have some modest, good governance.
I send word to this icy spring: keep for me a legacy of love.