The Book of Poetry, tr. by James Legge, [1876], at sacred-texts.com
2Yes, burdened sore, the people live in grief,
But we perchance may give them some relief.
This is the nation's heart.—Here kindness show,
And hither all will come with constant flow.
On wily flatterers look with angry scorn;—
Lo! noisy braggarts of their pride are shorn. p. 381
The fierce oppressors with strong hand repress;—
This course the people's sufferings shall redress.
What service you have done, keep on to do;—
So shall the king enjoy his rest through you.
3Yes, burdened sore, the people live in grief,
But we perchance may give them some relief.
Show kindness here.—This is the nations’ heart;—
Repose will spread from this to every part.
The indignant face to wily flatterers show,
Thus awing those whose deeds no limits know.
The fierce oppressors check with firmest will,
So hindering them from acting out their ill.
Then let us keep ourselves with reverent care,
And to the virtuous for their help repair.
4Yes, burdened sore, the people live in grief,
But we perchance may give them some relief.
This is the nation's heart.—Show kindness here,
And thus dispel the people's anxious fear.
To wily flatterers no indulgence give,
Thus warning all who but for evil live.
The fierce oppressors with strong hand keep down,
That so the right no more be overthrown. p. 382
As children, for such trust unfit are you,
But vast the service which you have to do!
5Yes, burdened sore, the people live in grief,
But we perchance may give them some relief,
Show kindness here.— This is the nation's heart;—
So shall you soothe and heal the people's smart.
View wily flatterers with indignant eye,
And from the court the parasites will fly.
’Gainst fierce oppressors wage determined fight,
And thus from vile reversal save the right.
The king us all as priceless jade would prize;—
Thus therefore I reprove you and advise.