Lament for Jeon Ije全履之哀詞
吾友全坦夫。字履之。惇信明敏能文人也。仕至中軍錄事。先吾以仕。而至予之已踐遺補。猶未遷秩。貞祐某年。佐元戎幕府。出征契丹之犯境者。方遷八品。遂隕命戰場。予悲之爲著詞云。古有儒將統三軍兮。制服戎虜如少兒兮。想夫子之非不爾兮。奈幕下之官卑。謀難專斷兮勇非所蓄。宜乎隕命之如斯。軍旅之未曾聞兮。仲尼有以著辭。胡吾子之習俎豆兮。遭玆鋒鏑之蹈危。援松指水有舊盟兮。淚橫墮兮哭以悲。已哉更不得覿兮。吾與誰兮論詩。豈無余子尙可同兮。獨子之詞兮簡而能披。
My friend Jeon Tanbu (全坦夫) had the courtesy name Ije (履之); he was trustworthy and warm, bright and quick, and good at letters. His office reached Recorder of the Central Army. He entered office before me, yet even when I had already trodden the posts of Gatherer of Omissions and Supplementer of Deficiencies he had not moved up in rank. In such-and-such a year of Jeongu (貞祐) he aided the commander-in-chief's headquarters and went out to strike the Khitan who had invaded the frontier, and just as he was moved up to the eighth rank he lost his life at last on the field of battle. I have grieved and made a writing, and it is this.
In old days a scholar-general led the three armies and handled the barbarians like children. I think that you too were not one who could not have done so; but what of it, when a post under the tent is low? A stratagem is hard to decide alone, and it was no place in which to store up valor; so it is fitting enough that you lost your life in this way. That he had never heard of military matters is a word Zhongni (仲尼) left behind him. Why then did you, who had learned the handling of the sacrificial vessels, tread this peril of blade and arrow? There is an old oath we swore, holding a pine and pointing at the water, and my tears fall aslant and I weep in sorrow. It is over: I cannot see you again, so with whom shall I discuss poetry? It is not that there is no one else fit to keep company with, but your writing alone was spare and yet laid its inside open.