Classic of Poetry

In the south rise the trees without branches, Affording no shelter. By the Han are girls rambling about, But it is vain to solicit them. The breadth of the Han Cannot be dived across; The length of the Këang Cannot be navigated with a raft.

Many are the bundles of firewood; I would cut down the thorns [to form more]. Those girls that are going to their future home,— I would feed their horses. The breadth of the Han Cannot be dived across; The length of the Këang Cannot be navigated with a raft.

Many are the bundles of firewood; I would cut down the southernwood [to form more]. Those girls that are going to their future home,— I would feed their colts. The breadth of the Han Cannot be dived across; The length of the Këang Cannot be navigated with a raft.