Glorious, it first emerges from the Pool of Xianchi,
Bathing in light, washing its traces, born in the eastern sky.
Unaware, something comes to dim its radiance,
A round, dull piece like stubborn bronze.
Once, the toad devoured your consort,
Under heaven, all cowered, none were loyal.
Who dares to scold the four directions?
Only Lu Tong, looking up, filled with indignation.
Wishing to take a tiny blade to rid this harm,
Though his strength was great, heaven's way was hard to pass.
At that time, not the slightest gain was made,
Only words, eloquent and bold, remained.
Lu Tong has been dead for over a hundred years,
How many times have sun and moon been veiled?
Some see it as if they see it not,
Who would open their mouth to question Heaven's Lord?
The old crow's dwelling is now secure and stable,
Three legs tripod-like, how perverse and idle.
Now it has a beak but cannot clamor,
Now it has claws but cannot attack.
Let the monster obscure heaven's eye,
Just mind your own business and protect your life.
Sun and moon bear no grudge against creatures,
Disaster must be stirred by this bird.
My thoughts vaguely surmise this bird
Surely also dodges, leaving the sun palace.
If only we met a Hou Yi not cruel and violent,
Who would simply draw his sturdy bow with honest intent.
Shoot this bird that invites resentment,
To rid us of the venomous, evil worm.
The two luminaries each keep their proper course,
And disasters find no way to occur.
The south blames not the vermilion bird,
The east reproaches not the azure dragon.
The northern turtle, do not spew your breath,
The western tiger, do not roar your wind.
The five elements do not fall into chaos,
And Emperor Shun is born with double pupils.
Now I compose this poem,
May it match the merit of Lu Tong.