Poems of Meng Jiao
On the Master of the Feast
The peaks are covered in the glory
And the bravery of this cultured hero.
While his lone voice sounds clear,
It rises above this world's poetry.
Spring clouds born on paper.
Autumn's waves rising in the breast.
And when five men chant together
The seven winds again arise.
How fortunate, these kin of pines and laurels.
We recognize their steadfast, bitter triumph.
We yearn to fly with these poet sages
On crane's wings into an empty sky.
In the title, 祭酒 is not exactly "master of the feast." It's the man who pours the libation to the gods. Apparently, this was accompanied by poetry and a chorus. Laurels and pines are symbols of virtue. And the poet sages are alluded to here with the Yellow Crane (Tower), a tower famous for its gathering of poets. I have no idea what significance the seven winds, or sons of the seven winds, have.