On this day of mourning, Qinghe villager Wang Dasheng offers pure wine in libation and speaks to the spirit of…
On this day of mourning, Qinghe villager Wang Dasheng offers pure wine in libation and speaks to the spirit of Brother Li:
Alas! When you departed, you were but thirty years of age, yet your righteousness ran deeper than this river. You and I were childhood friends, closer than brothers. Though your family was poor, mine often shared our surplus grain with yours, mere drops of aid, yet you repaid them with the heart of a surging spring. When I broke the law, though you served as a clerk, you hid me at great peril. The county captain interrogated you, but you never revealed my whereabouts. "The criminal is beneath your knees," the captain said. You took a stone and struck your own kneecap, demanding, "Where is he now?" When they burned you with fire, you cried out, "Cool! So cool!" Those who witnessed it could not bear to look. The captain never found me, but the magistrate sentenced you to exile a thousand li away.
Alas! Then came the distant letter, the sudden news of grief. Within two years, you perished in a foreign land. A hundred years hence, how can I let you lie buried alone, far from home? Though grief rends me, I journey now to bring your bones home. May Qinghe's endless waters light your way. Partake, dear brother, of this final offering.