Literature Reference: 我爱朱处士，三吴当中央。罢亚百顷稻，西风吹半黄。尚可活乡里，岂唯满囷仓。后岭翠扑扑，前溪碧泱泱。雾晓起凫鴈，日晚下牛羊。叔舅欲饮我，社瓮尔来尝。伯姊子欲归，彼亦有壶浆。西阡下柳坞，东陌绕荷塘。姻亲骨肉舍，烟火遥相望。太守政如水，长官贪似狼。征输一云毕，任尔自存亡。我昔造其室，羽仪鸾鹤翔。交横碧流上，竹映琴书床。出语无近俗，尧舜禹武汤。问今天子少，谁人为栋梁。我曰天子圣，晋公提纪纲。联兵数十万，附海正诛沧。谓言大义小不义，取易卷席如探囊。犀甲吴兵鬬弓弩，虵矛燕戟驰锋铓。岂知三载几百战，钩车不得望其墙。荅云此山外，有事同胡羌。谁将国伐叛，话与钓鱼郎。溪南重回首，一径出修篁。尔来十三岁，斯人未曾忘。往往自抚己，泪下神苍茫。御史诏分洛，举趾何猖狂。阙下谏官业，拜疏无文章。寻僧解忧梦，乞酒缓愁肠。岂为妻子计，未去山林藏。平生五色线，愿补舜衣裳。弦歌教燕赵，兰芷浴河湟。腥膻一扫洒，凶狠皆披攘。生人但眠食，寿域富农桑。孤吟志在此，自亦笑荒唐。江郡雨初霁，刀好截秋光。池边成独酌，拥鼻菊枝香。醺酣更唱太平曲，仁圣天子寿无疆。 I love the virtuous scholar Zhu, who resides in the heart of the Three Wu regions. With hundreds of acres of rice swaying in the west wind, he sustains the village and fills the granaries. The hills behind are lush, and the streams ahead are vast. At dawn, wild ducks rise in the mist; at dusk, cattle and sheep descend. My uncle invites me for a drink from the communal jar, and my elder sister’s child returns with a pot of wine. The paths wind through willows and lotus ponds. The kinship bonds are strong, and the smoke of hearths rises in the distance. The governor’s rule is as smooth as water, but the officials are as greedy as wolves. Once the taxes are paid, life continues as it will. I recall visiting his home, where the elegance of cranes and phoenixes adorned the room. Bamboo reflected on the bed with books and a zither. His words were noble, speaking of sage kings Yao, Shun, Yu, Wu, and Tang. I asked who would be the pillar of the state in these times, and I said the emperor is wise, with Duke Jin upholding the laws. With hundreds of thousands of troops, we fought against the sea to suppress chaos. Yet, after years of battles, the enemy’s walls remained unbreached. Beyond these mountains, troubles with the Hu and Qiang persist. Who will lead the nation to quell rebellion? I often reflect on this, tears welling up in sorrow. The imperial censor was reckless, and the remonstrators lacked substance. I sought solace in monks and wine, not for my family’s sake but for my own. With my five-colored thread, I wish to mend the emperor’s robe. Teaching songs to Yan and Zhao, cleansing the rivers with orchids, sweeping away the stench of violence, and bringing peace to the people. My solitary chant is both my ambition and my folly. The autumn light is sharp, and I drink alone by the pond, the fragrance of chrysanthemums in the air, singing of the emperor’s eternal reign.