Lamenting The Absence Of A Cherished Friend
Though small my basket, all my toil
Filled it with mouse-ears but in part.
I set it on the path, and sighed
For the dear master of my heart.
My steeds, o'er-tasked, their progress stayed,
When midway up that rocky height.
Give me a cup from that gilt vase--
When shall this longing end in sight?
To mount that lofty ridge I drove,
Until my steeds all changed their hue.
A cup from that rhinoceros's horn
May help my longing to subdue.
Striving to reach that flat-topped hill,
My steeds, worn out, relaxed their strain;
My driver also sank oppressed:--
I'll never see my lord again!
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Celebrating A Hunting Expedition
Our chariots were well-built and firm,
Well-matched our steeds, and fleet and strong.
Four, sleek and large, each chariot drew,
And eastward thus we drove along.
Our hunting cars were light and good,
Each with its team of noble steeds.
Still further east we took the way
To Foo-mere's grassy plains that leads.
Discontent
As when the north winds keenly blow,
And all around fast falls the snow,
The source of pain and suffering great,
So now it is in Wei's poor state.
Let us join hands and haste away,
My friends and lovers all.
'Tis not a time will brook delay;
Things for prompt action call.
The Value Of Friendship
The woodmen's blows responsive ring,
As on the trees they fall;
And when the birds their sweet notes sing,
They to each other call.
From the dark valley comes a bird,
And seeks the lofty tree.
_Ying_ goes its voice, and thus it cries,
"Companion, come to me."
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