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In this month, you cannot call for war, as it will be a natural disaster. If war does not start, it should not start with us. Do not change the way of heaven, do not break the principles of the earth, and do not disrupt the rules of people.
Zhi Daoling asked Sun Xinggong: "How do you compare to Xu Yuan?" Sun said: "Your sentiments are high and far-reaching, and I have already accepted them early. If you recite a poem, Xu will face north."
Huan Xuan went west and entered Shitou. The outsider said, "Sima Liang Wang has fled and rebelled." Xuan had already made up his mind, and he played horns and drums on the carriage, and sang loudly, "The sound of flutes and pipes remains, where is Liang Wang?"
In the first month of autumn, the sun is in Yi, the sun sets at the center of the star Jian, and the sun rises at the center of Bi. The days are Geng and Xin. Its emperor is Shaohao, and its god is Rushou. Its insect is Mao. Its tone is Shang, and the rhythm is Yi Ze. Its number is nine. Its taste is pungent, and its smell is fishy. Its sacrifice is at the gate, and the liver is sacrificed. The cool wind arrives, the white dew falls, and the cicadas sing. The eagle is sacrificed to the bird, and the slaughter begins. The emperor lives in the left side of the general chapter, rides on the military road, drives a white camel, carries a white flag, wears a white robe, and wears white jade. He eats hemp and dog, and his utensils are thin and deep.
When Wang Changshi was seriously ill, he lay under the stirrup, turned the whisk to look at him, and sighed, "A man like him will never live to be forty!" When he died, Liu Yin came to the funeral and stuck the whisk with a rhinoceros horn handle into the coffin, and was heartbroken.
Zixia said: "The five ultimates have been heard, and I dare to ask what the three nothings are?" Confucius said: "Music without sound, ritual without body, mourning without clothes, this is called the three nothings. "Zixia said: "I have heard the three "nothings" briefly. May I ask which poem is closest to them?" Confucius said: "'The life of the morning and the evening is to be forgiven and secret' is the music without sound. 'The dignity and manners are so great that they cannot be chosen' is the etiquette without form. 'When the people are in mourning, they crawl to save them' is the mourning without clothes."
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