The Book of Poetry, tr. by James Legge, [1876], at sacred-texts.com
2Where the palaces rose grand,
When Chou nobly ruled the land,
Millets, drooping, heavy here,
There just coming into ear,
All around abundant grew. p. 75
Slow the fields I wandered through,
Drunk with grief such sights to view.
Friends who knew me understood
What induced my saddened mood.
Those who did not know me said,
There I search for something made.
O thou azure Heaven, remote,
Who this desolation wrought?
3Where the palaces rose grand,
When Chou nobly ruled the land,
Millets, heavy, drooping low,
Some the bursting grain that show,
All around abundant grew.
Slow the fields I wandered through,
Breath nigh stopt such scene to view.
Friends who knew me understood
What induced my saddened mood.
Those who did not know me said,
There I search for something made.
O thou azure Heaven, remote,
Who this desolation wrought?