182行次昭陵

Reaching Zhaoling on My Travels Olden ways were worn down by undistinguished rulers, a host of heroes called the Lone Man to account. Prophecies pointed to one of dragon and phoenix nature, his might settled the capital with its tigers and jackals. His blood relations revered the “Canon of Yao,” in divine achievement he assisted in “the Plan of Yu.” Wind and clouds followed the fleetest feet, sun and moon continued on the high streets of Heaven. In cultural matters he often followed antiquity, half of his court were old Confucian scholars. He never shamed or killed those who criticized him directly, the road for the virtuous was not hard-going. Back then disasters still descended, the gasps of the common folk were not yet relieved. His directions settled all the land. washing all clean, he soothed the Vast Forge. The bold man is saddened at his tomb mound, the recluse[1] bows at Tripod[2] Lake. In his jade burial suit he ascended in the morning, the armored horses sweat, ever charging. Among cypress and pine I gaze on the empty halls, in dust and sand I stand on the darkened road. Vast distance now from the day he founded the dynasty, my flowing resentment fills the folds of the mountains. 单词释义 [1]recluse [rɪˈkluːs] n. 隐居者; 喜欢独处的人; [2]tripod [ˈtraɪpɒd] n. (照相机、望远镜等的) 三脚架;