Master Jin Answered, so I Matched the Rhymes Again in Reply陳君見和。復次韻答之。
陳郞年少氣尤雄。指麾電母鞭雷公。斗膽可吸江湖空。有如跨天萬里飮海之長虹。金鍾行酒日日醉。吟詩作賦渾閑事。袖携聯珠數百字。扣門爲訪狂居士。居士老矣霜欺眉。造物以我將安爲。一生獨把窮途悲。他人脚底大行巫峽猶平夷。鍊石五色空自苦。天固不缺何所補。子亦於吾何異笑百步。雖側金門滿腹琅玕猶未吐。相逢共幕劉伶天。醉倒况有支頭甎。是時白雪舞簷前。輕薄柳絮飛狂顚。箇中風流不落李杜後。洒翰飛文皆老手。莫詞促席留連久。此會人間信難有。諸公擧酒屬先生。共導先生胷中何物以爲精。自君之生。天不聖地不靈。山失其秀水失淸。宦路高高千萬層。期君穩穩上頭登。蒼生重望非子復誰勝。
Jin the young man is fresh in years and his vigour the stouter still; he commands the mother of lightning and whips the god of thunder. A gall as big as a peck could suck up the rivers and the lakes, like a long rainbow that straddles the sky and drinks a sea of ten thousand li. Passing the wine in a golden goblet, he is drunk day after day, and chanting poems and making rhapsodies is all an idle business to him. With several hundred words strung like beads in his sleeve he knocked at the gate and came looking for this mad layman. The layman has grown old, and frost has cheated his brows; what does the Maker of Things mean to do with me? All my life I alone have held the grief of a road blocked up. Under other men's feet even Taihang and the Wu Gorges are level ground. Though I polish stones of five colours, I only torment myself for nothing; heaven was never broken to begin with, so what is there to mend? And how does it differ from laughing at me for a hundred paces? Though you have set your body at the Golden Gate (金門), you have not yet spat out the jade that fills your belly. Meeting, we take Liu Ling's (劉伶) sky together for our canopy, and we fall over drunk — how much more, with a brick to prop the head. Just then white snow dances before the eaves, and frivolous willow-down flies as if gone mad. The elegance within it falls nothing behind Li Bai and Du Fu, and the scattering of brushes and the flying of words is all seasoned skill. Press closer to the mat, and do not refuse to stay long; such a gathering is truly hard to come by in the world of men. You all raise the wine and press it upon the master, and together you ask: what in the master's breast has become his essence? Since you were born, heaven has not been holy and earth has not been numinous, the mountains have lost their excellence and the waters their clearness. The road of office rises high and high, ten million tiers, and you are bound to climb to its summit at your ease. The heavy hope of the people — if not you, who else could bear it?