The deluge, a calamity beyond the ordinary, rages across the land, stirring wind and thunder.
Emperor Yao, grieving for his people turned to fish and turtles, consulted Yu to tame the waters, urging him to act with diligence.
With no time for courtly ease, he made you, like salt and plum, the vital seasoning for the state's broth.
Yu knew the people's weal and woe rested in his hands; how could he, in his haste, spare pity for a mere infant?
He dredged channels high and low, sacrificing to the four seas, measuring his strength against heaven's will, which had to yield.
Then, the Heze Marsh was reached in due order, and a stream was guided forth from the east.
Not only the land of Yuzhou gained benefit; all eight wilds relied on it to open their rivers and plains.
Agriculture and sericulture everywhere fulfilled desires; the tracks of birds and beasts returned to Penglai.
Though this marsh's role was subtle, it had its force, recorded in texts and hung among the starry chiefs.
Yu returned to heaven myriad years ago, yet the legacy of benefit still divides the nine realms today.
The capital's tiger-warriors are beyond count, opening their jaws morn and eve, awaiting sustenance.
Grain and cloth are transported from the eastern regions; in ten days, how many masts float, not merely a thousand!
Then I know a mere inch of glue is insufficient; safety and peril must rely on the talent of statecraft.
Have you not seen the Yellow River overflow, its golden dikes destroyed, wasting the royal house's billions in wealth?
Those in fine silks and feasting on meat are all chosen elites, yet year after year, debates clamor in the central court.