Scenic Updates


Inscription for the Ancient Great Locust Tree Magazine

2026-01-13


Inscription for the Ancient Great Locust Tree Magazine   

(Yiren) Guo Zhaoqi

The legendary tale of the relocation of people under the Great Locust Tree is omitted from the county’s old chronicles. Through painstaking efforts and vigorous promotion, Mr. Jing has ensured that this historic site will endure for all time. In the summer of the Yiwei year, Mr. Jing visited Bingmen and presented several poems, rhapsodies, ci‑poems, and lyrical prefaces he had collected, requesting that I add a supplementary section to round out this anthology of materials pertaining to the ancient Great Locust Tree. Given my own modest abilities, how dare I presume to overstep my bounds? Yet moved by Mr. Jing’s sincere dedication—and mindful of the importance of preserving and promoting this historic landmark—I have undertaken to compose this eulogy, in order to record his noble deeds. Though I am far from eloquent, whether my work is skillful or clumsy is not the point.

Only the king establishes the state, setting its seat and discerning its directions. He surveys the land to settle the people, assessing their yin and yang. In all things—birth, growth, and sustenance—nothing is left unaccounted for.

In the early years of the Ming dynasty, territory was expanded and frontiers opened. By drawing from abundance to fill what was lacking and by rectifying deficiencies to extend what was already strong, the realm grew ever more prosperous. At that time, the people flourished, and this was known as the ancient Yang.

When places are overcrowded, relocating to a new site is the best course. Chuzhou and Hezhou were once thriving towns, yet now they lie remote and desolate. Vast tracts of barren land stand in stark contrast to former abundance.

Water is suited to rice, while land is suited to millet. Seedlings are transplanted in early summer, and by September the threshing floor is prepared. Sails are hoisted and wheels are driven, to fill the granaries of heaven.

From the East to Hai and Dai, its fish and salt industries were renowned for their strength. It expanded its territory and established colonies, its influence vast and far-reaching. The former lands of Yu Province lay at the heart of the realm.

Immigrants and grain‑carriers, whether upright or misguided. Farmers bear the plow and hoe, while scholars carry their books. Craftsmen excel in their trades, and merchants grow ever more prosperous.

Provisions are wrapped, packed in pouches and bags. With wife and infant in swaddling clothes, we set out in haste. Our home and our fields—abandoned as if long forgotten.

The willow and the zǐ tree—love is like the sweet mulberry. From time immemorial, mountains and passes have served as vital links. Traveling has been fraught with hardship, whether by mountain paths or sea voyages.

Civilize the barbarians, and clothe them in robes and hats. How much more so in the heartland—what harm is there in such a transformation? The progress of a nation is the glory of history.

Moreover, in these latter days, the land is both rugged and broad. The tracks are swift as lightning, the wheels outpace the wind; from the southern Yue to the northern Hu, all move with ease and soar aloft.

  They speak of settling the frontier and building dwellings along the borders. They further debate relocation, with expenses and arrangements in endless confusion. Is it truly the way of the ancient sages, or are later generations merely mad?

  When the Way is lost, each cherishes his own village. The green locust trees stand dense and tall, while the Fen River flows gently and endlessly. The cypress of Jinbai remains evergreen, and the jade peaks rise in layered, verdant splendor.

  When Master Shi journeyed to Lu, he stood before the temple of the Master. This object and this sentiment—ancient relics and their illustrious fame. It is fitting to bring wine along and together recount the vicissitudes of time.

  

Keywords:

Hongtong Great Locust Tree