Classic of Poetry

We went to the hills of the east, And long were we there without returning, When we came from the east, Down came the rain drizzlingly. When we were in the east, and it was said we should return, Our hearts were in the west and sad; But there were they preparing our clothes for us, As to serve no more in the ranks with the gags. Creeping about were the caterpillars, All over the mulberry grounds; And quietly and solitarily did we pass the night, Under our carriages.

We went to the hills of the east, And long were we there without returning. When we came back from the east, Down came the rain drizzlingly. The fruit of the heavenly gourd Would be hanging about our eaves; The sowbug would be in our chambers; The spiders’ webs would be in our doors; Our paddocks would be deer-fields; The fitful light of the glow-worms would be all about. These thoughts made us apprehensive, And they occupied our breasts.

We went to the hills of the east, And long were we there without returning. On our way back from the east, Down came the rain drizzlingly. The cranes were crying on the ant-hills; Our wives were sighing in their rooms; They had sprinkled and swept, and stuffed up all the crevices. Suddenly we arrived from the expedition, And there were the bitter gourds hanging From the branches of the chestnut trees. Since we had seen such a sight, Three years were now elapsed.

We went to the hills of the east, And long were we there without returning. On our way back from the east, Down came the rain drizzlingly. The oriole is flying about, Now here, now there, are its wings. Those young ladies are going to be married, With their bay and red horses, flecked with white. Their mothers have tied their sashes; Complete are their equipments. The new matches are admirable;— How can the reunions of the old be expressed?