The beauty of Mount Lu, splendid beside the Dipper.
It stands with Mount Heng, guarding the southeast quarter.
Gazed upon by the people, a dwelling for gods on high.
The auspicious dream's omen arose in times gone by.
Heaven, in its wisdom, pities those below.
Seeks out their silent woes, fears what it might not know.
The gods in charge, with cloud-carriages and wind-steeds, ride.
They consult and inquire, traveling far and wide.
Neither hasty nor slow, discerning without scrutiny.
Heaven speaks not a word, yet the people are free from misery.
This is the blessed court, where sages show reverence deep.
Bestowing favor and bliss, responses from feelings they keep.
Bright and clear is our sage, with a single, focused heart.
Though not manifest, he presides, daring none to depart from respect.
Precious paintings and golden plaques, illustrious titles by decree.
Like the sun and moon unveiled, mountains and rivers shine in glee.
The deep hall lies behind, the new pavilion stands before.
As a ruler holds court, his ministers look up in awe.
In seasonal caps and pendants, they gather at the emperor's place.
Conveying the people's sentiments, blessing our sage with grace.
The people uphold our sage, boundless as the sky.
Heaven protects our Song, with offspring multiplying nigh.
The people bow their heads, wishing for guiding texts to descend.
The attending ministers carve words, that glorious praise may never end.