The Hwang Néaou (Part I, Book XI)

They flit about, the yellow birds,
And rest upon the jujubes find.
Who buried were in duke Muh’s grave,
Alive to awful death consigned ?
’Mong brothers three, who met that fate,
’T'was sad the first, Yen-seih, to see.
He stood alone; a hundred men
Could show no other such as he.
When to the yawning grave he came,
Terror unnerved and shook his frame.
Why thus destroy our noblest men,
To thee we cry, O azure Heaven !
To save Yen-seih from death, we would
A hundred lives have freely given.

They flit about, the yellow birds,
And on the mulberry trees rest find.
Who buried were in duke Muh’s grave,
Alive to awful death consigned ?
’Mong brothers three, who met that fate,
’Twas sad the next, Chung-hang, to see.
When on him pressed a hundred men,
A match for all of them was he.
When to the yawning grave he came,
Terror unnerved and shook his frame.
Why thus destroy our noblest men,
To thee we cry, O azure Heaven!
To save Chung-hang from death, we would
A hundred lives have freely given.

They flit about, the yellow birds,
And rest upon the thorn trees find.
Who buried were in duke Muh’s grave,
Alive to awful death consigned ?
?Mong brothers three, who met that fate,
’Twas sad the third, K‘éen-foo, to see.
A hundred men in desperate fight
Successfully withstand could he.
When to the yawning grave he came,
Terror unnerved and shook his frame.
Why thus destroy our noblest men,
To thee we cry, O azure Heaven !
To save K‘éen-foo from death, we would
A hundred lives have freely given.