Informing Officials of the Bandits' Retreat

Informing Officials of the Bandits' Retreat

In years past I met with peace and calm,

Twenty years I dwelt in hills and streams.

The fountain springs lay just before my door,

The caves and grottoes faced my gate, it seems.

The well-field tax came due at its set hour,

Till late at night I slept in perfect peace.

Then suddenly the world was swept by change,

For years I served beneath the battle flags.

Now I am sent to govern this small town,

Yet mountain brigands rise in uproar fierce.

The city is too small for them to sack,

The people poor—their suffering moves my heart.

Because they spared the neighboring domains,

This district alone remains unharmed.

The envoy bears the royal command—

Can he be worse than the bandits themselves?

He drives the tax collectors to their task,

Pressing the folk as if by fire and flame.

Who can cut short the lives of common men

To win himself a "sage of the age"?

I long to lay my official seal aside,

To take my pole and row my boat away.

To lead my family to fish and wheat,

And spend my final years beside the river's edge.