Gyewon Pilgyeongjip (A Plowing of the Brush in the Cassia Garden) 桂苑筆耕集 · Choe Chiwon · 886 (Tang, 6th year of the Zhonghe era · Silla, 12th year of King Heongang) · 1 passages · 109 Chinese characters · reading time 0.4 min
Gyewon Pilgyeongjip (A Plowing of the Brush in the Cassia Garden) Book 18 — Letters and Reports A collection Choe Chiwon made by choosing out of the writings of his four years in the headquarters of Gao Pian, military commissioner of Huainan under the Tang, binding them into twenty volumes and presenting them to King Heongang of Silla in 886. It holds 366 pieces — memorials and reports sent up to the emperor, the proclamation denouncing Huang Chao, letters to the several military commissioners, orders and dispatches issued to those under him, Daoist and Buddhist texts for services, funeral offerings, records written for the outer wall of Chengdu and for a painting of Annam, and the reports and poems he sent up to Gao Pian. Here is the first report, which begins "I am a man of Silla," and the proclamation against Huang Chao with its line, "Not only do all the men of the world think to kill you openly; the ghosts under the earth have already discussed cutting you down in secret." The last volume holds the poems he made on the voyage home to the country he had left at twelve. It is the oldest collection by a Korean that survives, and when Hong Seokju and Seo Yugu printed it with movable type in 1834 they called it "the root and the beginning of the writing of our Eastern Country." Their two prefaces are translated with it.
1The excellence of Shugang and the fragrance of the garden of Sui
The above. Today Yu Gongchu, commissioner of the central army, conveyed your order and sent the tea buds named above. I humbly consider that Shugang nourishes what is excellent and that the garden of Sui sends up its fragrance. The work of picking has only just begun, and the taste of its finest essence is now come. It should be boiled as green milk in a golden cauldron and floated as fragrant oil in a jade bowl. If one does not bow quietly with it to an old man of meditation, then one invites a feathered guest at leisure. How could I have looked for a gift of the immortals to reach a common scholar unworthily? Without borrowing the plum grove, it cures thirst of itself. Without seeking the daylily, I can forget my cares at last. My humble heart cannot bear the fullness of its gratitude, its dread, and its keen stirring. I respectfully set out my thanks. Respectfully submitted.