Wiping the Dust at the Five-Hundred-Stone Grotto Heaven, Vol. 5

Coming to sweep the graves at Jinshan, the old paths have been walked for thirty generations, over seven hundred years. The family line passes through the Secretariat; brothers and sisters share the spring breeze. It is not that there are no people to record the ancestors, but the family records are often incomplete. How can one know the traveler in Taiwan, led by the east wind, will return on a ship? Residing in Chaozhou and speaking of Chaozhou, reflecting on the past is a leisurely feeling. The ancestral lands can still be served, and the old virtues can still be passed down. This is a majestic stronghold in the southeast, and our hearts are committed to protecting the world.

Xie Daolong, styled Songchen, was a student in Taiwan. When the Ministry of Works official Qiu Zhong’e was organizing the defense of Taichung, he issued a mandate to appoint him as the commander of the "Cheng" character battalion of the righteous army. When the Japanese took Taipei, the central region was shaken, followed by two unsuccessful battles involving aid and provisions. The commanders of various battalions who died in the army numbered several in total. Xie was the only one who escaped; he and Qiu crossed over to Guangdong. A year later, in the Bingshen year 1896, hearing that the situation in Taiwan had somewhat stabilized, he returned to his village. Some reported him to the Japanese, but the Japanese sympathized with his actions and could not bear to investigate further. Qiu has eight farewell poems; I record six here to show the general situation:

"Tears fall as I look at the dais; mountains and rivers rest in the dust of war. The old home has become a strange land; the returning guest is a traveler. In the sea of Kun Taiwan, a dream at the third watch; in the sky of gulls, spring for ten thousand miles. The road ahead is clear, yet I do not believe I have lost my way so soon. Do not regret this small parting; sigh at this journey to the ends of the earth. Family letters sink in the distance; I escaped from the fires of war. Crossing to the east, the dragon loses its spirit; flying south..."