Multiple poems at a time |
The wild geese are flying about;
And they settle in the midst of the marsh.
[There were] those officers directing the rearing of the walls; --
Five thousand cubits of them arose at once.
Though there was pain and toil,
In the end we had rest in our dwellings.
The wild geese are flying about,
And melancholy is their cry of ao-ao.
There were they, wise men,
Who recognized our pain and toil;
If they had been stupid men,
They would have said we were proclaiming our insolence.
【Source】 The English translation text was taken from The Chinese Classics, vol. 4 by James Legge (1898) and checked against a reprinted edition by Wen Zhi Zhe chu pan she (Taiwan, 1971).