In the “phoenix ranks” I was granted the Purple Robe,
decorated with embroidered clusters of autumn sunflowers.
On night duty at the Imperial Shrine
I'd wear it before the crowing of the rooster.
During spring audience at the Inner Palace
I'd wear it as I sat on horseback.
The dew of those immortal precincts dripped on it:
it glitters still!
Royal incense perfumed its sleeves: it still smells fragrant!
But here in the mountains I have no more dreams of paradise—
I'll exchange it for money to buy some wine.