xiǎo·鸿hóngyànzhīshén

18-1

The wild geese fly, Fluttering their wings. The people are on the march, Toiling in the open country. We reach out to the destitute, Pitying the widows and the bereaved. The wild geese fly, Settling in the midst of the marsh. The people are on the wall-building, A hundred walls go up. Though we toil and travail — In the end, there is a home to dwell in. The wild geese fly, Their mournful cry, āo-āo. The wise man says we toil and travail. The foolish man says we are proud and idle.

GLM · 2025 · machine-generated

18-2

How goes the night? The night is not yet half spent. The torches in the courtyard blaze — The noble men have come, The bells of the carriage ring clear. How goes the night? The night is not yet over. The torches in the courtyard flicker — The noble men have come, The bells of the carriage trill. How goes the night? The night gives way to morning. The torches in the courtyard smoke — The noble men have come, We watch their banners appear.

GLM · 2025 · machine-generated

18-3

The flowing waters, Like courtiers, hasten to the sea. Swift flies the falcon, Now on the wing, now at rest. Alas, my brothers! People of the state, my friends! None will think of the turmoil — Who has not father and mother? The flowing waters, Their current broad and deep. Swift flies the falcon, Now on the wing, now soaring. I think of those who walk not in the right way — I rise, I pace the floor. The sorrow of my heart — I cannot banish, I cannot forget. Swift flies the falcon, Following the ridges of the hill. The slanderous talk of the people — Why is it not punished? My friends, be on your guard — Slanderous words will rise!

GLM · 2025 · machine-generated

18-4

The crane cries in the deep marsh — Its voice is heard in the wild. Fish lie deep in the abyss, Or sport among the islets. In that pleasant garden — There stands the sandal-tree, Beneath it, the fallen leaves. The stones of other hills — May serve to polish gems. The crane cries in the deep marsh — Its voice reaches to heaven. Fish sport among the islets, Or lie deep in the abyss. In that pleasant garden — There stands the sandal-tree, Beneath it, the brushwood. The stones of other hills — May serve to polish gems.

GLM · 2025 · machine-generated

18-5

O Father of the War! I am the fang and claw of the king. Why do you cast me into distress? I have no place to dwell. O Father of the War! I am the guardsman of the king. Why do you cast me into distress? I have no place to rest. O Father of the War! Truly you are not wise. Why do you cast me into distress? I have a mother — but who prepares her meal?

GLM · 2025 · machine-generated

18-6

The bright white colt Eats the shoots of my garden. I tether it, I halter it — To prolong this morning. The one I speak of — Here he lingers at ease. The bright white colt Eats the bean-leaves of my garden. I tether it, I halter it — To prolong this evening. The one I speak of — Here he is a welcome guest. The bright white colt — It comes, so brightly. Be you duke, be you marquis — Enjoy yourself without end. Take heed in your wanderings — Restrain your thoughts of flight. The bright white colt — There in the empty valley, A bundle of fresh grass. Its rider is like jade — Prize not your voice as gold and jade, And form a heart estranged!

GLM · 2025 · machine-generated

18-7

They flit about, the yellow birds, And rest upon the jujube trees. Who followed duke Mû in the grave? Zze-kü Yen-hsî. And this Yen-hsî Was a man above a hundred. When he came to the grave, He looked terrified and trembled. Thou azure Heaven there! Thou art destroying our good men. Could he have been redeemed, We would have given a hundred (ordinary) men for him.

Legge · 1879 · public domain

18-8

I walk through the wild, The foul-tree's leaves are thick. For the sake of our marriage — I came to dwell with you. You cherish me no longer — I return to my own home. I walk through the wild, I gather the parsley. For the sake of our marriage — I came to lodge with you. You cherish me no longer — I return to my own place. I walk through the wild, I gather the convolvulus. You think not of our old bond, You seek some new match. It is not that they are richer — It is only that you are changed.

GLM · 2025 · machine-generated

18-9

Level and smooth is the courtyard, And lofty are the pillars around it. Pleasant is the exposure of the chamber to the light, And deep and wide are its recesses. Here will our noble lord repose. On the rush-mat below and that of fine bamboos above it, May he repose in slumber! May he sleep and awake, (Saying), 'Divine for me my dreams. What dreams are lucky? They have been of bears and grisly bears; They have been of cobras and (other) snakes.' The chief diviner will divine them. 'The bears and grisly bears Are the auspicious intimations of sons; The cobras and (other) snakes Are the auspicious intimations of daughters.' Sons shall be born to him:— They will be put to sleep on couches; They will be clothed in robes; They will have sceptres to play with; Their cry will be loud. They will be (hereafter) resplendent with red knee-covers, The (future) king, the princes of the land. Daughters shall be born to him:— They will be put to sleep on the ground; They will be clothed with wrappers; They will have tiles to play with. It will be theirs neither to do wrong nor to do good. Only about the spirits and the food will they have to think, And to cause no sorrow to their parents.

Legge · 1879 · public domain

18-10

Your herdsmen shall dream, Of multitudes and then of fishes, Of the tortoise-and-serpent, and then of the falcon, banners. The chief diviner will divine the dreams;— How the multitudes, dissolving into fishes, Betoken plentiful years; How the tortoise-and-serpent, dissolving into the falcon, banners, Betoken the increasing population of the kingdom.

Legge · 1879 · public domain