诗经/大叔于田

Our lord goes hunting in the land, / Mounted in his cab with four steeds. He waves and weaves the reins in hand; / Two outside horses dance with speed. Our lord goes hunting in grass land; / The hunters’ torches flame in a ring. He seizes a tiger with bared hand / And then presents it to the king. Don’t try, my lord, to do it again / For fear you may get hurt with pain! Mounted in his chariot and four, / Hunting afield our lord does go.