廣弘明集 29.13

29.13

Moved by the shifting of the four seasons, / I behold the transformation and maturation of the ten thousand things. / Receiving the harmony of Heaven, their destinies differ; / Endowed with the virtue of Earth, their flourishing is equal. / I observe the midges on the mosquito’s eyebrows, / And gaze upon the Leviathan and Roc in the northern sea. / All possess consciousness, yet their perspectives differ; / Together they possess form, yet their shapes are diverse. / Though the ten thousand kinds are so numerous, / Only humanity is the most spiritual. / Rites and righteousness distinguish them from flying and running beasts; / Speech and words differentiate them from parrots and apes. / Pondering the swiftness of [a white steed] passing a crevice, / I grieve over the flowing river that never ceases. / Treading upon frost and dew, I am struck with sorrow; / Cherishing [memories of] fire and grain, my tears fall. / Concealing this grief, it does not depart; / Nor is there a day I do not pine. / Zhongyou thought of the dried fish and yearned forever; / Qiuwu was moved by the wind-blown trees and grieved perpetually. / Though one may reach the utmost and lay down one's life, / When can one ever serve one's two parents again? / Thoughts are born of feelings; / Feelings arise from thoughts. / Channeling the source of feelings to flow and pour down, / Guiding the thinking mind without end. / Having harbored sorrow throughout life, / One bears grief to one's dying day. / Constantly dwelling in leisure to ponder forever, / Alone I beat my breast and lament myself. / In vain I climb the wooded hill with nothing to see; / Fruitlessly I ascend the bare hill—toward what can I look? / Tears flow crisscross and mingle together; / Blood wells up boiling and stains my garments. / Examining the righteousness of Earth, I blame myself, / Fearing that destroying one's nature violates proper norms. / Looking up to the Supreme Ultimate in lingering thoughts, / I proclaim my grief to the azure heavens. / Hoping that August Heaven might be moved, / How vast and uncertain is the recompense! / At dawn my heart shatters in a hundred pieces at the palace gates; / At night my innards are severed ten thousand times within. / Mind connects to mind in succession; / Thought follows thought without end. / In the morning I sit alone, wrapped in knots; / In the evening I dwell alone, pacing in distress. / Breath choked with sorrow as if gagging; / Thoughts accumulated in the heart as if mad. / When the new year shines its radiance / And the spring sun waxes warm, / Trees scatter a hundred blooms and herbs line up numerous fragrances; / Confronted with this joyful season, I have no happiness, / But am touched to grief by all my eyes meet. / The vermilion brightness opens the season, and the white sun shines in the morning; / Trees hang low with sweet fruit, and branches offer cool shade. / No joy enters my breast, / Only boundless sorrow entangles my heart. / The reeds are lush and green, the white dew turns to frost; / Cool air penetrates the garments, a chilling wind stirs the clothes. / With no diversion, the heart is pained of itself; / Without being provoked, feelings are wounded alone. / When cold ice has formed and cold branches have snapped, / Yellow leaves fly in the forest and white snow piles upon the mountains. / The traveling geese cry out in mournful sorrow; / The north wind blows and roars with fury. / Whatever meets the eye is shattered; / The heart is severed with every emotion. / Not for a single breath is the pining eased; / Through all four seasons it remains perpetually keen. / Years slip away swiftly, never to return; / Time flashes like lightning in the blink of an eye. / Remembering the loving countenance of the past, / I grieve that it can never be seen again. / Pained that their nurturing has received no recompense, / Looking back, there is not even a shred of repayment. / Sorrow and regret arise together; / Tears mingled with blood fall like sleet. / Swallows fly unevenly in the green spring; / Wild geese soar in the pale autumn. / Departures and arrivals mark the seasonal changes; / Flying and crying answer yin and yang. / Why is it not so with me, / In disharmony with the two cosmic forces? / Constantly enduring cruelty in endless cycles, / Passing through days and nights without forgetting. / Looking at red, it turns to green; / Seeing white, it appears yellow. / Nature and feelings are disturbed and overturned; / Spirit and thoughts are muddled and bewildered. / Thinking of the crying crane, my soul is severed; / Hearing the orphaned chick, my heart dies. / Wailing to the end of my days without a father to depend on; / Crying out all my life without a mother to rely on. / Look upon Ridi of the Xiutu: / How could moral instruction have reached him? / Yet seeing the portrait at Ganquan, / He would bow down and weep each time. / Suddenly stirred at heart with unease, / He hurried into the imperial palace to attend the Emperor; / When Heluo rose in rebellion, / He seized him and threw him upon the zither. / Surpassing the name of ordinary royal ministers, / He stood foremost in sincerity and courage, a peerless man. / There are many ways to conduct oneself: / Consider how Shi Tuo showed adaptability; / Though he died, his fame spread far, / Fulfilling both loyalty and filial piety. / Look at Ding Lan, what manner of man was he? / His home was at Yewang in Henei. / Just when he reached the age of fifteen, / Barely a youth, his parents passed away. / He carved a wooden mother to serve, / Constantly attending her morning and night. / Liu Zhen had no leisure while caring for his mother; / Constantly drawing water from afar, his strength was meager. / His bitter devotion moved the unseen spirits, / And a sweet spring welled up beneath the hearth. / Look upon Linxiang in Changsha, / Where Dao Shi of the Gu family lived; / When his father died and was not yet buried, / A neighbor's fire suddenly broke out; / He threw himself over the coffin and wailed aloud, / A sudden rain arrived, and the fire died down. / And so too was He Qi: / Alone, the coffin room remained intact. / As for Wang Xiang, a yellow sparrow entered his curtain; / With Kui Tong, a crosswise stone sprang up on its own. / Sheng Yan opened his mother's eyes; / Xing Qu made teeth grow in his father's mouth. / Reviewing such matters, they are very numerous, / And difficult to record in full. / The spiritual serpent held a pearl in its mouth to repay virtue; / The filial crow feeds its parents in return to repay its kin. / Even among insects and birds it is so; / How much more for human beings among the Three Powers! / The root of governance returns to the three greats; / The people's lives are exhausted in the five filial duties. / Placed between Heaven and Earth, virtue overflows; / Extending across the four seas, it is never exhausted. / To walk this path yet fail to practice it— / Alas, what then did the school of Confucius teach?