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What is written in “The Lamentation of Dengxitai”
“The Story of Crying on the West Terrace” uses Yan Zhenqing, a loyal minister of the Tang Dynasty, as a metaphor for Wen Tianxiang, and uses Zhang Xun and Yan Gaoqing who fought hard to defend Suiyang and Changshan City during the Anshi Rebellion and were killed to metaphor Wen Tianxiang’s heroic sacrifice. Mourning shows Wen Tianxiang’s unrepentant patriotism and expresses the author’s grief for the martyrdom of national heroes.
Earlier, my old friend Tang Prime Minister Lu Jungong set up an office in Nanjian Prefecture, and I joined the army as an ordinary person under his command. In the second year, he broke up with him on the bank of the Zhangjiang River. Another year later, Duke Lu passed by Zhang Suiyang Temple and Yan Gaoqing’s garrison Changshan area due to business. He sang generously and elegiacly, and finally lived up to his promise, and followed the martyrs to swim in Huangquan. Now his posthumous poems are all left in the world, which can be proved.
I regret that after I die, I can only see Duke Lu in the ground with empty hands, but luckily I still remember the words when I parted with him. Whenever I think of these scenes, I will relive them in my dreams. Sometimes when I encounter mountains, rivers, forests, pools, terraces, clouds and vegetation, which happen to be similar to the situation when we parted, it will make me linger and look carefully, so sad that I dare not cry.
Three years later, I passed through Wu County. Wu County is the seat of Duke Lu’s office in his early years, and it was the first time he cried for Duke Lu in front of Gusu Terrace. Four years later, I cried for him again at Yuewangtai. Another five years later, and today, I held another sacrifice at Diaotai in Yan Ziling and wept loudly.
Yesterday, I made an appointment with my friends A, B, and C to have a party the next day. At noon, when the rain had not stopped, we hired a boat by the river; then we went ashore, visited the ancestral hall of Yan Ziling, and rested in the monk’s room next to the ancestral hall. But seeing broken walls and dry wells, it seems to have entered a tomb. Back in the boat, we bought sacrificial utensils together with the boatman.
After a while, the rain stopped, we boarded the West Terrace, placed a memorial tablet on the corner of the barren pavilion, and then bowed down and knelt down to salute. After the congratulations were finished, he cried three more times, bowed down again, and stood up.
At this time, I remembered that when I was young, I must come to the ancestral hall to pay my respects when I passed by here. When he first came, he came with his father. Now that I am getting old too, facing the mountains, rivers, land, and influential people, I am reluctant to let go, as if I have lost something. So he cried and worshiped Dongfang again. At this time, a cloud came from the south, damp and gloomy, and the cloud covered the forest, as if adding to the sad atmosphere.
I knocked on stones with bamboo ruyi, and played the song of Chu to summon his soul. The lyrics are: “Soul, where are you going to fly in the morning? Don’t come back at night, because the pass is dark. You turned into a vermilion bird. Although you have a mouth, But what can I eat?”
After the song, the bamboo ruyi and the stone were all broken, so everyone sighed to each other. We boarded the Dongtai again, stroked the bluestone, and then returned to the boat to rest. Just now the boatman was surprised that I had cried bitterly, and said, “A patrol boat passed by here just now, why don’t we move the boat elsewhere?”
So they moved the boat to the center of the river, set up wine and toasted each other, and each wrote poems to express their grief. In the evening, the snow was flying and the wind was cold, so I couldn’t stay in the boat for a long time, so I went ashore and lived in Yi’s house. Write poetry nostalgia again at night. On the second day, when the wind and snow got even worse, I parted ways with A by the river and went back with C only. After walking for thirty miles, it took another night to get home.
Afterwards, A sent a letter and a poem about Fu Bie. The letter said: “This day the wind was strong and the waves were high. The boatman rowed his oars desperately, and it took a long time to cross the river. After crossing the river, I really suspected that there was a god helping in secret. To show the magnificence of this gathering.” I said, “Oh! Since Ruan Ji’s death, there has been no cry in the empty mountain for more than a thousand years. Of course, it is not certain whether there is a god to help this matter, but this gathering Traveling is indeed a feat. We can only write poems and essays to express our feelings, which is really sad.”
I once wanted to imitate the style of Sima Qian’s “Moon Table between Qin and Chu” to write “Ji Han Moon Table”. Maybe no one can understand my intentions now, but future generations will certainly understand my intentions. I should write down this matter here, so I wrote this article and attached it to the record of Ji Han’s deeds in the future.
Today is the twenty-sixth year since my late father ascended Yan Ziling Diaotai. My late father’s name was XX, and the year he came on stage was the year of Yi Chou.
