弘明集 11.54

11.54

You discourse on heaven and speak of earth; your spirit and demeanor are like a mirror. When you draw the brush and sweep across the slips, your wise thoughts plunge into the deep abyss. Yet you missed the root of principle in your youth and stumbled along until your hair turned white. Regretting your talents, I constantly sigh. Although your mind dwells above the clouds, your corporeal form resides below the pit. If you mingle with yellow sparrows, I fear the beauty of the purple phoenix will be submerged. Therefore, I followed the etiquette of presenting bows and silk, condescending to engage in the acts of guest and host. The fine tablets were thrice conveyed, and your humble notes twice replied. You merely practice self-effacement and obstinately decline on account of old age. Estimating your virtue, it is just when great fortune should flourish. If you cannot bend your will, it must be that you are soaring about, choosing your tree, waiting to perch on the paulownia and feed on bamboo fruit. How could my humble command and light summons be worthy of your stooping? I respectfully bow to your pure breeze and solemnly comply with your preferences. Since my original intent has been thwarted, drafting this reply fills me with shame and sorrow. Liu Junbai replies.