Cold is the wind, fast falls the rain,
    The cock aye shrilly crows. 
  But I have seen my lord again;—­
    Now must my heart repose.

  Whistles the wind, patters the rain,
    The cock’s crow far resounds. 
  But I have seen my lord again,
    And healed are my heart’s wounds.

  All’s dark amid the wind and rain,
    Ceaseless the cock’s clear voice! 
  But I have seen my lord again;—­
    Should not my heart rejoice?

In Praise of Some Lady

  There by his side in chariot rideth she,
  As lovely flower of the hibiscus tree,
  So fair her face; and when about they wheel,
  Her girdle gems of Ken themselves reveal. 
  For beauty all the House of Keang have fame;
  Its eldest daughter—­she beseems her name.

  There on the path, close by him, walketh she,
  Bright as the blossom of hibiscus tree,
  And fair her face; and when around they flit,
  Her girdle gems a tinkling sound emit. 
  Among the Keang she has distinguished place,
  For virtuous fame renowned, and peerless grace.

A Man’s Praise of His Wife

  My path forth from the east gate lay,
  Where cloud-like moved the girls at play. 
  Numerous are they, as clouds so bright,
  But not on them my heart’s thoughts light. 
  Dressed in a thin white silk, with coiffure gray
  Is she, my wife, my joy in life’s low way.

  Forth by the covering wall’s high tower,
  I went, and saw, like rush in flower,
  Each flaunting girl.  Brilliant are they,
  But not with them my heart’s thoughts stay. 
  In thin white silk, with head-dress madder-dyed,
  Is she, my sole delight, ’foretime my bride.

An Entreaty

  Along the great highway,
    I hold you by the cuff. 
  O spurn me not, I pray,
    Nor break old friendship off.

  Along the highway worn,
    I hold your hand in mine. 
  Do not as vile me scorn;
    Your love I can’t resign.

  A Woman Scorning Her Lover

  O dear! that artful boy
    Refuses me a word! 
  But, Sir, I shall enjoy
    My food, though you’re absurd!

  O dear! that artful boy
    My table will not share! 
  But, Sir, I shall enjoy
    My rest, though you’re not there!

A Lady Mourns the Absence of Her Student Lover

  You student, with the collar blue,
    Long pines my heart with anxious pain. 
  Although I do not go to you,
    Why from all word do you refrain?

  O you, with girdle strings of blue,
    My thoughts to you forever roam! 
  Although I do not go to you,
    Yet why to me should you not come?

  How reckless you, how light and wild,
    There by the tower upon the wall! 
  One day, from sight of you exiled,
    As long as three long months I call.