哀秋夕之慘悽兮。風雨颯其晦宴。懷沉憂以假寐兮。魂聇聇其上征。指虛無以恍忽兮。若有路乎紆縈。忽焉升彼蒼兮。儼玉皇之高居。門四闢以招徠兮。孰云却步而趑趄。入余跪而陳辭兮。皇爲之色敷腴。曰下土之微臣兮。心菀結猶未得信。曩余僅免襁褓兮。動必師乎古之人。惟仲尼之垂訓兮。殺身以成仁。志士不忘在溝壑兮。子輿味夫斯言。寧力不足而或斃兮。羗佩服以拳拳。忠君與愛國兮。志專專其靡佗。何時俗之險巇兮。學曲而心阿。視余猶机上臠兮。旣鼓吻又磨牙。彼讒諛之得志兮。自昔匈人國也。雖萬死余無悔兮。恐此志之不白也。時陟高以瞰遠兮。余舍此而安適。惟皇德之孔仁兮。拯余乎陸之沉。涕洟交以雨滂兮。謇心噎而欽欽。皇愍余之深衷兮。徠爾聽我辭。所貴學之道兮。能變通而推移。日中則昃兮。月盈而虧。天道亦不可久常兮。在人事其何疑。世旣惡夫方兮。爾何惜乎爲圓。世旣尙夫白兮。爾胡獨守此玄。我哀爾之遭罹兮。亦惟爾之故也。欲去危以就安兮。盍反爾之道也。余默退而靜思兮。皇恩之罔極也。竊不敢改余之初服兮。固長終乎窮阨。前余生之千古兮。其在後者無窮。矢余志之不迴兮。仰前脩而飭躬。世貿貿莫我知兮。庶憑辭以自通。
The autumn evening descends in desolation, wind and rain sweep the darkening sky. Cradling sorrow, I drift into shallow sleep— my spirit rises and wanders upward. I point toward the void, lost in reverie, winding paths appear before me. Suddenly I ascend to heaven's vault, where the Jade Emperor's palace stands in splendor. The gates swing open in welcome— who would hesitate or retreat? Entering, I kneel and speak my heart. The Divine One's countenance grows serene. “From the dust below, a humble subject comes, my bound heart yearns for release. Since escaping my swaddling clothes, I have looked only to the ancients as my guide. Confucius taught us to shed our skin for righteousness, and Mencius echoed: the man of purpose fears not the grave. So I have guarded my sworn path— faithful to my lord, devoted to my land, steadfast, unmoved by the world's deceits. Yet how the times have turned treacherous! Flatterers bend their words to suit the moment, and scheming lips move all to their advantage. They regard me as meat upon the block, saliva on their tongues, teeth grinding. These slanderers have thrived since ancient days, bringing ruin to nations. Then let me die ten thousand times— I have no regret. My only fear is that my truth shall never shine.” Climbing high to gaze afar, I see no other refuge. By the Emperor's boundless mercy, will He not lift me from this drowning? Tears and rain mingle, pouring down, my chest tightens with emotion. The Emperor takes pity on my depths and speaks: “Come now, attend to my words. The virtue of learning lies in this: to bend with the times, to flow and transform. The sun at zenith must decline, the full moon must wane. Heaven itself knows no fixed state— why doubt that human affairs work thus? The world demands one shape—why cling to another? The age prizes white—why guard your darkness alone? I pity your affliction, yet know this: it stems from your own nature. To escape danger and find peace, must you not alter your course?” I withdraw in silence, lost in thought. The Emperor's grace knows no bounds, yet I cannot abandon my first resolve. I shall end my days in hardship. Those who came a thousand years before me, and those who shall come after, stretch into infinity. I swear my purpose shall not waver. Looking back to the ancients, I refine myself. The world, oblivious, knows me not. So I write these words to comfort my own heart.