Here is a young man who cherishes great ideas

Time and again entering the place

Nicknamed ‘Infernal Bowl’ for taking exams.

Alas, this place is overflowed

With corrupt practice, mixing real demons

With the men of merit, treating them all alike.

What makes you, judges, be so ruthless?

At the age may be of thirty or more

He has already passed through his four

Or five selections in a row to no purpose.

Although he is lured to pass the IQ,

Will he one day come to be an ambassador

Or a counsellor of state? Meantime,

Inside his bag there are only yellowed scripts;

Inside his pocket he has never had easy cash.

Walking about the food stands, he dares not

To turn his head, even for a short taste. . .

As usual, foxes and jackals of all specimens

Pretend to be not less than a lion in the chair;

The crafty and unreal are commonly treated

As a treasure, throwing dust in laymen’s eyes.

But once lead ore is put into the melting pot,

The so-called ‘gold’ betrays itself as simply

As a quintessence of ignorance. Hey, man,

If you cannot always be straight like an arrow

On the tight bowstring, don’t let them at least

Turn the screws and, making short work of you,

Knuckle down and give a cry “Failed to Pass!”