The Book of Poetry, tr. by James Legge, [1876], at sacred-texts.com
2 ’Midst the fretted waters
The white rocks glist’ning stand.
To Ku we'll follow you,
With white silk robe in hand,
And collar of red hue,
And broidered. axes fine,
Your master to invest
As chief of T‘ang’s great line.
When him, our princely lord, we see,
From every pain we shall be free. p. 130
3’Midst the fretted waters
The white rocks grandly show.
Your orders we have heard,
But not a single word
Shall any from us know.