In the thirteenth year of Zhenguan, the year being jisi, the ninth month jiaxu, the third day, the fine hour of guimao, the Grand Expositor Dharma Master Chen Xuanzang assembled twelve hundred eminent monks, all at the Huasheng Temple in the city of Chang'an, to open the exposition of the various sublime scriptures.

The date arrives in full sixty-cycle notation — 己巳, 甲戌, 癸卯 — year, month and day each named by its place in the cycle rather than by number. The effect is documentary: this is how a stone stele would date itself. 都 in 都在, all at, is dōu; 長 in 長安 is cháng.

That emperor, the morning court concluded, led his civil and military officers and, riding the phoenix-palanquin and dragon-carriage, left the Hall of the Golden Bells and came straight up to the temple to offer incense.

那 in 那皇帝 is the pointing nà; 朝 in 早朝, the morning court, is cháo; 乘 in 乘鳳輦, riding the phoenix-palanquin, is chéng.

How shall that imperial equipage be described? Truly it was thus:

怎見那鑾駕？真個是 — how is that equipage to be described? Truly it was thus. The storyteller poses his own question and then answers it at length, which is how these rhapsodies get themselves started. 那 is the pointing nà.

A whole sky of auspicious vapors, ten thousand shafts of propitious light.

The rhapsody opens on light rather than on any object — 瑞氣 and 祥光, auspicious vapour and lucky radiance, counted in thousands and ten-thousands before a single solid thing is named.

A benevolent breeze, light and softly stirring; a transforming sun, radiant beyond the common.

化 reads huà in 化日, the transforming sun of a well-governed reign. 仁風 and 化日 both describe imperial virtue as weather — the emperor's goodness felt on the skin, as a mild breeze and a kind sun.

A thousand officials, their girdle-pendants ranged before and behind; the Five Guards, their banners arrayed on either side.

分 in 分前後, ranged before and behind, is fēn.

Bearers of golden maces, holders of axes and battle-axes, pair upon pair, rank upon rank;

金瓜 and 斧鉞 are ceremonial arms — gilt melon-headed maces and axes, carried to be looked at rather than swung. 雙雙對對 sets them in pairs, as the line before set the officials before and behind.

crimson gauze lanterns, the imperial censer's incense, curling thick and stately.

絳紗燭 and 御爐香 answer the metal of the previous line with cloth and smoke. 靄靄堂堂 pairs a word for haze with a word for stately bearing, so the incense and the dignity are handed the same grammar and rise together.

Dragons soaring, phoenixes dancing; ospreys presented, hawks on the wing.

Four characters of creatures and four of birds, each pair a set phrase for talent in office: 龍飛鳳舞 for splendour, 鶚薦鷹揚 for the putting forward of able men.

A sage and enlightened Son of Heaven, upright; loyal and righteous great ministers, good.

天子, Son of Heaven, reads 子 as zǐ.

Blessings assured for a thousand years, surpassing Shun and Yu; peace and prosperity for a myriad ages, rivaling Yao and Tang.

The four sage-kings 舜禹堯湯 — Shun, Yu, Yao and Tang — are the Confucian yardstick of ideal rule, and a Buddhist emperor is here being measured against them. 昇平, peace and prosperity, writes 昇, the 世德堂 variant of 升, read shēng.

See too the crook-handled parasols, the coiling-dragon robes, their brilliance shining each upon each;

那 in 又見那 is the pointing nà; 相 in 相射, shining on one another, is xiāng.

jade linked-rings, painted phoenix fans, auspicious mists floating aloft.

扇 is shàn, the fan itself rather than the verb of fanning. 玉連環 and 彩鳳扇 carry on the inventory of regalia begun with the canopy and the dragon robe.

Pearl crowns and jade girdles, purple cords and golden seals.

冠 in 珠冠, a pearl crown, is the noun guān. 紫綬金章, purple cords and golden seals, are the badges of high office — the cord and the seal an official wore at his waist.

Guard troops in a thousand squads, carriage-attending officers in two rows.

In 扶輿將兩行, 將 is the noun jiàng, officers, balancing 軍, troops, in the first clause; and 行 is háng, a row or a rank. The rhapsody's -ang rhyme settles both readings.

This emperor, bathed and purified, in reverent sincerity honored the Buddha; taking refuge in the good fruit, he gladly offered incense.

皈依 (guī yī) is to take refuge, in the technical Buddhist sense of formally placing oneself under the Buddha's protection. After a hundred lines of soldiers and gold, the rhapsody comes to rest on one man, washed and offering incense.