Chinese and Arabian Literature - E. Wilson - The Search For Mecca

138
THE SHI-KING
When poverty was nigh,
I strove our means to spare
You, now rich grown, me scorn to own
To poison me compare.
The stores for winter piled
Are all unprized in spring.
So now, elate with your new mate,
Myself away you fling.
Your cool disdain for me
A bitter anguish hath.
The early time, our love's sweet prime,
In you wakes only wrath.
Soldiers of Wei Bewail Separation from Their Families
List to the thunder and roll of the drum
See how we spring and brandish the dart!
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Some raise Ts'aou's walls ; some do field work at home
But we to the southward lonely depart.
Our chief. Sun Tsze-chung, agreement has made,
Our forces to join with Ch'in and with Sung.
When shall we back from this service be led ?
Our hearts are all sad, our courage unstrung.
Here we are halting, and there we delay
Anon we soon lose our high-mettled steeds.
The forest's gloom makes our steps go astray
Each thicket of trees our searching misleads.
For death as for life, at home or abroad,
We pledged to our wives our faithfulest word.
Their hands clasped in ours, together we vowed,
We'd live to old age in sweetest accord.
This march to the South can end but in ill
Oh !
The word that we pledged we cannot fulfil
never shall we our wives again meet.
Us home returning they never will greet.
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