America has power, but not justice. In prison, we were victimized as if we were guilty. Given no opportunity to explain, it was really brutal. I bow my head in reflection but there is nothing I can do.

There are tens of thousands of poems composed on these walls. They are all cries of complaint and sadness. The say I am rid of this prison and attain success, I must remember that this chapter once existed. In my daily needs, I must be frugal. Needless extravagance leads youth to ruin. All my compatriots should please be mindful. Once you have some small grains, return home early.

For what reason must I sit in jail? It is only because my country is weak and my family poor My parents wait at the door but there is no news. My wife and child wrap themselves in quilt, sighing with loneliness. Even if my petition is approved and I can enter the country, when can I return to the Mountains of Tang with a full load? From ancient times, those venture out usually become worthless. How many people ever return from battles?