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Confucius - Celebrating The Opulence Of The Lords Of Ts`in
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Our ruler to the hunt proceeds;
  And black as iron are his steeds
  That heed the charioteer`s command,
  Who holds the six reins in his hand.
  His favorites follow to the chase,
  Rejoicing in his special grace.

  The season`s males, alarmed, arise--
  The season`s males, of wondrous size.
  Driven by the beaters, forth they spring,
  Soon caught within the hunters` ring.
  "Drive on their left," the ruler cries;
  And to its mark his arrow flies.

  The hunting done, northward he goes;
  And in the park the driver shows
  The horses` points, and his own skill
  That rules and guides them at his will.
  Light cars whose teams small bells display,
  The long-and short-mouthed dogs convey.
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