This piece — according to ancient writings — was composed by Ma Zicai. It holds that a great man, living in the world, should take Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things as one body. When employed, he follows the undertakings of Yi and Zhou; when not employed, he follows the withdrawal of Chao and Xu. Thus the whole piece concludes that wealth, rank, glory, and splendor are like floating clouds passing across the Great Void, and one should harbor no attachment to them in the mind.

Therefore (these lyrics) have been set into qin music, so that those who greed after fame and pursue profit, upon hearing it, may also be somewhat awakened.

第一段 起作商霖
Di yi duan: Qǐ Zuò Shāng Lín;
Section 1: Rising as the Beneficent Rain of Shang

浩浩歌： 天地萬物如吾何。
Hào hào gē: Tiān dì wàn wù rú wú hé.
Song of Vastness:
      Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things — what are they to me?
用之解帶食太倉，不用拂枕歸山河。
Yòng zhī jiě dài shí tài cāng, bù yòng fú zhěn guī shān hé.
When employed, I loosen my belt and eat from the imperial granary;
      when not employed, I brush my pillow and return to the rivers and mountains.
君不見，渭川漁父一竿竹，莘野耕叟數畝禾。
Jūn bù jiàn, wèi chuān yú fù yī gān zhú, shēn yě gēng sǒu shù mǔ hé.
Do you not see—the fisherman of the Wei River, with but a single bamboo rod;
      the old ploughman of Shen fields, with only a few acres of grain?
喜時起作商家霖，怒來便把周王戈。
Xǐ shí qǐ zuò shāng jiā lín, nù lái biàn bǎ zhōu wáng gē.
In times of joy, he rises to become the rain that blesses the House of Shang;
      when anger comes, he takes up the halberd of the King of Zhou.
又不見，子陵橫足加帝腹，帝不敢動豈敢訶。
Yòu bù jiàn, zi líng héng zú jiā dì fù, dì bù gǎn dòng qǐ gǎn hē.
Again, do you not see — Ziling stretched his feet across the emperor’s belly;
      the emperor dared not move — how could he dare to rebuke him?
皇天爲忙逼，星宿相擊摩。
Huáng tiān wèi máng bī, xīng sù xiāng jī mó.
August Heaven is driven on in urgent haste;
      the constellations jostle and collide with one another.
可憐相府痴，邀請先經過。
Kě lián xiāng fǔ chī, yāo qǐng xiān jīng guò.
Pitiful, those fools of the ministerial mansions—
      their invitations I pass by before they are even made。

第二段 觀聖賢心 (Guān Shèng Xián Xīn)
Section two: Contemplating the Minds of Sages and Worthies

浩浩歌：天地萬物如吾何。
Hào hào gē: Tiāndì wàn wù rú wú hé.
Song of Vastness: Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things—
      what are they to me?
屈原枉死汨羅水，夷齊空餓西山坡。
Qū Yuán wǎng sǐ Mìluó shuǐ, Yí Qí kōng è xī shān pō.
Qu Yuan died unjustly in the waters of the Miluo;
      Bo Yi and Shu Qi starved in vain upon the western hills.
丈夫犖犖不可覉，有身何用自滅磨。
Zhàng fū luò luò bù kě jī, yǒu shēn hé yòng zì miè mó.
A true man, outstanding, cannot be bound;
      having this body, why should one wear it away and destroy oneself?
吾觀聖賢心，獨樂豈有他。
Wú guān shèng xián xīn, dú lè qǐ yǒu tā.
I contemplate the minds of sages and worthies—
      their solitary joy—how could it be anything else?
蒼生如命窮，吾道成蹉跎。
Cāng shēng rú mìng qióng, wú dào chéng cuō tuó.
If the common people’s fate runs to exhaustion,
      then my Way comes to be delayed and thwarted.
直須爲弔天下人，何必嫌恨傷丘軻。
Zhí xū wèi diào tiān xià rén, hé bì xián hèn shāng Qiū Kē.
One must simply mourn for all under Heaven;
      why harbor resentment that wounds Confucius and Mencius?

第三段 仰天長嘯 (Yǎng Tiān Cháng Xiào)       (...笑 xiao: laugh?)
Section three: Looking to heaven and uttering a long cry

浩浩歌：天地萬物如吾何。
Hào hào gē: Tiāndì wàn wù rú wú hé.
Song of Vastness: Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things—
      what are they to me?
玉堂金馬在何處，雲山石室高嵯峨。
Yù táng jīn mǎ zài hé chù, yún shān shí shì gāo cuó é.
Where now are the Jade Halls and Golden Gates?
      among clouded mountains, the stone chambers rise lofty and sheer.
低頭欲耕地雖少，仰面長嘯天何多。
Dī tóu yù gēng dì suī shǎo, yǎng miàn cháng xiào tiān hé duō.
Bowing my head, I would till — though the land be small;
      raising my face, I give a long whistle — how vast the sky!
請君醉我一斗酒，紅光滿面春風和，
Qǐng jūn zuì wǒ yī dǒu jiǔ, hóng guāng mǎn miàn chūn fēng hé,
Pray make me drunk on a full measure of wine;
      with ruddy glow filling the face, in the gentle spring breeze,
紅光滿面春風和。
Hóng guāng mǎn miàn chūn fēng hé.
With ruddy glow filling the face,
      in the gentle spring breeze.

Bai Juyi: Ballad of a Vast Song

Heaven is long, Earth enduring — without final end;
      last night becomes this morning, then yet another tomorrow.
My temples have turned pale and disordered, my teeth grown sparse;
      before I knew it, my years had reached forty-seven.
Ahead, how many years remain before fifty?
      I raise a mirror to my face, and my heart grows dim and lost.
I have no long rope to tie fast the white sun,
      nor any great elixir to preserve this rosy face.
This rosy face daily becomes less than before;
      where now are the achievements and fame written in blue annals?
One wishes to keep youth until wealth and honor arrive,
      but wealth and honor do not come, while youth departs.
Gone and gone again, like the long river,
      eastward flowing to the sea, with no returning wave.
Wise and foolish, noble and base — all alike come to their end;
      on Beimang the tomb-mounds rise lofty and steep.
It has always been thus from ancient times, not for me alone;
      while not yet dead, with wine at hand, let us sing aloud.
Yan Hui died young, Boyi starved in hunger;
      what I myself have obtained is already much indeed.
Achievement, fame, wealth, and honor must await destiny;
      if destiny does not come, what can one do about it?

浩浩歌，人生如寄可奈何？  
      春秋去來傳鴻雁，朝暮出沒奔羲娥。
青絲冉冉上霜雪，百年欻若彈指過。
封侯未必勝瓜圃，青門老子聊婆娑。
江湖流浪何不可，亦曾力士為脫靴。
清風明月不用買，何處不是安樂窩。
鶴脛豈長鳧豈短，夔足非少蚿非多。

浩浩歌，人生如寄可奈何。
不能高飛與遠舉，天荒地老懸網羅。
到頭北邙一抔土，萬事碌碌空奔波。
金張許史久寂寞，古來賢聖聞丘軻。
乃知世間為長物，惟有真我難滅磨。

浩浩歌，人生如寄可奈何。
春夢婆，春夢婆，拍手笑呵呵。
是亦一東坡，非亦一東坡。

Song of Vastness
(Preface by Wen Tianxiang himself): Chen Guandao took the phrase “Like a Lodging” from a poem by Dongpo and made it his own sobriquet. He is one who belongs among the truly enlightened; therefore I composed this “Song of Vastness” for him.

Song of Vastness:
      life is but a lodging — what can one do?
Spring and autumn come and go, borne by wild geese;
      morning and evening rise and set, driven by Xi and E.
Black hair slowly takes on frost and snow;
      a hundred years passes suddenly, like the snap of a finger.
Being enfeoffed as a marquis is not necessarily better than tending melon-fields;
      the old man of Qingmen may simply wander at ease.
Why not drift among rivers and lakes?
      Even once, a Strongman took off my boots.
Clear wind and bright moon need not be bought;
      where is there not a nest of peace and joy?
Are crane legs really long, are duck legs really short?
      Does Kui truly have too few feet, and the millipede too many?

Song of Vastness:
      life is but a lodging—what can one do?
Unable to fly high or journey far,
      from heaven’s edge to earth’s old age the net is hung.
In the end, at Beimang, one handful of earth;
      all affairs are mere bustling and running about.
The Jin, Zhang, Xu, and Shi houses have long been silent;
      of ancient sages and worthies we hear only Confucius and Mencius.
Thus I know the things of this world are surplus things;
      only the true self is hard to grind away.

Song of Vastness:
      life is but a lodging—what can one do?
Old woman of spring dreams, old woman of spring dreams,
      clapping hands and laughing, ha ha!
This too is one Dongpo;
      that too is one Dongpo.