The Book of Poetry, tr. by James Legge, , at sacred-texts.com
2The king was walking in his wondrous park,
Where lay the does, all sleek and clean.
’Twas sweet to him their restfulness to mark,
And see the white birds’ glistening sheen.
Then to his wondrous pond he took his way,
To view the fish their bounding life display.
3Right in the middle of a circling pool,
His hall, the place of joy, he reared.
For music there he made provision full.
’Twixt pillars finely carved appeared
Face boards, with tops of finest tracery,
’Neath which large drums and bells were hanging free. p. 353
4On these the blind musicians did their part.
Of lizard skin the drums were made.
The eyeless men displayed consummate art;
In perfect unison they played.
The music loud resounded through the hall.
What rapture did the festive throng enthrall!