Bright are those extensive fields, A tenth of whose produce is annually levied. I take the old stores, And with them feed the husbandmen. From of old we have had good years; And now I go to the south-lying acres, Where some are weeding, and some gather the earth about the roots. The millets look luxuriant; And in a spacious resting-place, I collect and encourage the men of greater promise.

With my vessels full of bright millet, And my pure victim-rams, We gave thanks and made our offering to God in each of the four quarters. That my fields are in such good condition Is matter of joy to the husbandmen. With lutes, and with drums beating, We will call on God, And pray for sweet rain, To increase the produce of our millets, And to bless my men and their wives.

The distant descendant comes, When their wives and children Are bringing food to those (at work) in the south-lying acres. The surveyor of the fields (also) comes and is glad. He takes (of the food) on the left and the right, And tastes whether it be good or not. The grain is well cultivated, all the acres over; Good will it be and abundant. The distant descendant has no displeasure; The husbandmen are encouraged to diligence.

The crops of the distant descendant Look (thick) as thatch, and (swelling) like a carriage-cover. His stacks will stand like islands and mounds. He will seek for thousands of granaries; He will seek for tens of thousands of carts. The millets, the paddy, and the maize Will awake the joy of the husbandmen; (And they will say), 'May he be rewarded with great happiness, With myriads of years, life without end!'