Zhuansun Gengxu 442涓囧瓧 557669浜鸿杩 杩炶浇
銆娧侵奚蘼胱酆贤记只
Zengzi said: "At the grave of a friend, there is old grass, but no one should cry."
Zi Gan met Shi Yi and asked him, "I heard that each song has its own merits. What should I sing?" Shi Yi said, "I am a lowly worker, so why should I ask what is appropriate? Please recite what I heard, and I will stick to it: Those who are broad-minded and calm, gentle and upright should sing Song. Those who are broad-minded and calm, open-minded and trustworthy should sing Da Ya. Those who are respectful and frugal and like etiquette should sing Xiao Ya. Those who are upright and calm, honest and modest should sing Feng. Those who are unrestrained and kind should sing Shang; those who are gentle and decisive should sing Qi. Singing is to be upright and to show virtue. When you move yourself, the heaven and earth respond, the four seasons are harmonious, the stars are in order, and all things are nurtured. Therefore, Shang is the legacy of the Five Emperors. The business people know Qi is the sound left over from the Three Dynasties, and the people of Qi know it, so they call it Qi. Those who know the sound of Shang are often decisive in dealing with things, and those who know the sound of Qi are yielding when seeing benefits. Being often decisive in dealing with things is courage; yielding when seeing benefits is righteousness. Who can guarantee courage and righteousness except singing? Therefore, the singer is like a resistance above, a team below, a bend like a bend, a stop like a dead wood, a square in the middle, a hook in the sentence, and a string of pearls. Therefore, singing is a long speech. It is said because it pleases; it is not enough, so it is said for a long time; it is not enough because it is not enough, so it is sighed; sighing is not enough, so it does not know how to dance with hands and feet. "Zi Gong asked about music.
Wang Ziyou and Zijing were both seriously ill, but Zijing died first. Ziyou asked his attendants, "Why haven't we heard any news? He is already dead!" He showed no sadness at all when he spoke. They asked for a sedan chair and came to the funeral, but did not cry. Zijing had always loved the zither, so he went straight in and sat on the coffin, took out Zijing's zither and played it. When the strings were out of tune, he threw it to the ground and said, "Zijing! Zijing! Both you and the zither are gone." He was in grief for a long time, and died more than a month later.
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