There are two kinds of sun crows,
The white-beaked one is called 'Kind'.
It seeks food to feed its kind mother,
Hence it is named for this.
Its eating and drinking are frugal,
Its voice is also soft and gentle.
A hundred nests share the same tree,
They roost without doubt.
When it gets food, it feeds its mother first,
Its own body often grows thin.
Because it knows the five constant virtues,
It is instead bullied by other birds.
The one with a large beak,
Is greedy and foolish in seizing prey.
Its strength is strong as a falcon,
Its claws sharp as an awl.
Its voice is harsh and grating,
Secretly communicating with demon words.
Sheltered by the sun's leftover light,
It never faces death.
It soars over rich men's houses,
Perches on branches before the roof.
Witches say when this crow arrives,
Wealth and property grow daily.
The host, utterly deluded,
Lures it tirelessly.
Soon he sees crows gathering,
Claims his household prospers.
White cranes are kept outside the gate,
Flower hawks tethered on frames.
He listens only to the crow's moods,
Trusts it like a divine turtle.
The whole family shares this view,
No more shooting arrows.
Often by clear ponds,
They let phoenix-like birds follow.
The flock of crows feasts on grain and meat,
Their feathers glossy and rich.
Going far and near as they please,
Greedy and cruel in all they do.
They snatch chicks and eggs from nests,
Peck sores from stable horses.
Draining every drop of fat,
How would the phoenix know?
When the host falls ill one morning,
They vie to peek under the eaves.
Screeching, calling groups of owls,
Fluttering, gathering strange kites.
The crow the host favored most,
Howls and gathers, most rampant.
At midnight still causing alarm,
Owls chase old wildcats.
The host, sick and fearful at heart,
Moves the lamp deep into the night.
Those around, though silent,
All secretly shed tears.
At dawn the sun emerges,
Dark spirits scatter unevenly.
The crow comes upon the eaves,
And deludes the host's son.
The son, now managing the estate,
Fond of curiosities and play.
Seeks to hire a talking bird,
Offers high pay to those who present one.
On Longshan trees nest parrots,
Fine in speech and splendid appearance.
A beauty offers it wholeheartedly,
Holds it in a carved cage herself.
The seeker sits by the veranda,
Places it on the white jade steps.
First asks the bird of its suffering,
Then speaks of the crow's ways.
All crows together peck and wound it,
Its green feathers nearly torn apart.
Cast far over a thousand miles,
The beauty's affection also fades.
The whole family, warned by this disaster,
Serve the crow more than before.
Speaking of the heron by the pond,
It pecks flesh and sleeps on its skin.
The night water-clock ends at dawn,
Dark clouds disperse in steady wind.
What more of you, crow,
At the extreme, unaware of peril?
A net covering the sky will be woven,
To catch all, leaving none.
Let the high pavilion always
Gently host the long-tailed phoenix.