1. Yes, all about that southern hill, Great Yu pursued his wondrous toil. He drained the plain, the marsh he dried; Our lord in fields laid out the soil. Their boundaries we now define, As south, or east, the fields incline.

2. The wintry heavens, one arch of clouds, Send down the flakes that fill the sky. Then come the drizzling rains of spring, That moisture, with the snow, supply, To soak and fit the ground for use, And in its season grain produce.

3. The plots, arranged in order fit, The millets in abundance bear. So shall our lord the harvest view; While food and spirits we prepare, For those in whom our sires descend, And guests who at the feast attend.

4. The central plot the huts contains, While gourds each path and boundary line. Their fruits preserved, aside we put, Till 'mong the offerings they shall shine. So through his sires our lord shall gain Long life, and gifts from Heaven obtain.

5. The fragrant spirits first are poured; Then near the gate the bull is led;— So we invite our sires to come. To show the victim pure and red, The knife with bells slides through the hair. Its blood and fat away we bear.

6. 'Then all our offerings we present, Diffusing round a fragrance great. How brilliant is the sacrifice! Our ancestors in kingly state Are there, unseen; but they shall send Blessing and life,—years without end!