Classic of Poetry

His bells ring out tsëang-tsëang, While the waters of the Hwae go sweeping on; Sad is my heart and wounded. The virtuous sovereigns [of old],— In my heart, indeed, I cannot forget them.

His drums ring out këae-këae, While the waters of the Hwae rush along; My heart is sad and grieved. Of the virtuous sovereigns [of old] The virtue was without flaw.

His bells ring out, his large drums resound; There are the three islands in the Hwae; Sad is my heart and moved. Of the virtuous sovereigns [of old] The virtue was different from this.

His bells ring out k‘in-k‘in; His lutes, large and small, give their notes; The tones of his organs and sounding stones are in unison. They sing the Ya and the Nan, Dancing to their flutes without error.