Book of Songs — 靡不有初

Few things begin without intention—yet how rarely do they conclude as thoughtfully as they began. This stark observation anchors the “Da Ya” section’s “Tang” ode in the Book of Songs, where the poet, traditionally identified as the Duke of Shao, laments the collapse of Zhou moral and political order under King Li. The line *Mǐ bù yǒu chū, xiǎn kè yǒu zhōng*—“There is no one who does not have a beginning; few indeed are those who can see it through to the end”—appears amid a series of reproaches addressed to the fallen Shang dynasty, now serving as a mirror for Zhou’s own decay. The poem portrays a world unmoored: heaven’s commands grow perverse, rulers mistake cruelty for strength, and day blurs into night as officials chant empty slogans while the people suffer. The repetition of “Wen Wang yue zī!” (“King Wen sighs!”) underscores the gravity—not as nostalgia, but as warning. Here, the Book of Songs does not merely record custom or celebrate virtue; it holds up a cracked mirror to power, showing how easily resolve frays when discipline falters and justice recedes. The phrase is not about individual perseverance, but about collective fidelity—to principle, to office, to the covenant between ruler and ruled.