For the Lord of Changsha

I

Discrete branches from one source

Grown apart with lapse of time.

This moves me to sad sighs

As I recall our progenitor.

Our mourning clothes differ widely

The years and months that have rushed away!

Moved to see that stranger there,

Full of yearning, I hesitate.

II

Ah, a fine clansman he is

Who carries on the ancestral task.

In manner mild, a warm sun in winter,

His radiant heart a tablet of jade;

He gathers the flowers of spring,

He heeds the warning of autumn frost.

I express my respect for him,

Truly the bright light of our line.

III

When first I met him

Though elder, I forgot the inequality.

A time we talked and laughed together

And then he left to go away.

Far far to the 'Three Hsiang

From here, where the Nine Streams roll.

Hills and rivers block the distance

But messcngers can sometimes pass.

IV

How tell all that is in my heart?

I send you this worthwhile saying

One basket ofearth may be small

But in the end it builds a hill.

May he be careful, the parting one

Whose departure leaves me sad.

Too far away for heartfelt talk,

I hope to have some word from you.