སྐྱེས་ཕོ་རབ་གཏམ་དེ་ཉི་མ་འདྲ།

Like the sun, are the words of a superior male;      

Without the need for questions, the world makes clear.

 

Like the wind, are words of an intermediate male;

Wherever the sky’s elevated, with ground levelled.

 

The two, the pigeon and an inferior male;

From the top of the throat stutters and stutters.

                                    Lower Hor Ling 285