Monkeys and birds are still alert for your orders And winds and clouds eager to shield your fortress. ...You were master of the brush, and a sagacious general, But your Emperor, defeated, rode the prison-cart. You were abler than even the greatest Zhou statesmen, Yet less fortunate than the two Shu generals who were killed in action. And, though at your birth-place a temple has been built to you, You never finished singing your Song of the Holy Mountain