something relevant for a certain world leader from the Book of Songs: No.52

See the rat–at least it’s got a hide,
but a man with no manners,
a man with no manners–
why doesn’t he just die!

See the rat–at least it’s got teeth,
but a man with no decorum,
a man with no decorum–
what’s keeping him! why doesn’t he die?

See the rat–at least it’s got legs,
but a man without courtesy,
a man without courtesy–
why doesn’t he hurry up and die!

translated by Burton Watson

from the Book of Songs (Odes): 91

Blue blue your collar,
sad sad my heart:
though I do not go to you,
why don’t you send word?

Blue blue your belt-stone,
sad sad my thoughts:
though I do not go to you,
why don’t you come?

Restless, heedless,
I walk the gate tower.
One day not seeing you
is three months long.

translated by Burton Watson

from Book of Songs: White Moonrise

The white rising moon
is your bright beauty
binding me in spells
till my heart’s devoured.

The light moon soars
resplendent like my lady,
binding me in light chains
till my heart’s devoured.

Moon in white glory,
you are the beautiful one
who delicately wounds me
till my heart’s devoured.

translated by Tony Barnstone & Willis Barnstone

from The Book of Songs: No. 28

Cold blows the northern wind,
Thick falls the snow.
Be kind to me, love me,
Take my hand and go with me.
Yet she lingers, yet she havers!
There is no time to lose.

The north wind whistles,
Whirls the falling snow.
Be kind to me, love me,
Take my hand and go home with me.
Yet she lingers, yet she havers!
There is no time to lose.

Nothing is redder than the fox,
Nothing blacker than the crow.
Be kind to me, love me,
Take my hand and ride with me.
Yet she lingers, yet she havers!
There is no time to lose.

translated by Arthur Waley

from The Book of Songs: No. 36

Outside the Eastern Gate
Are girls many as the clouds;
But though they are many as clouds
There is none on whom my heart dwells.
White jacket and grey scarf
Alone could cure my woe.

Beyond the Gate Tower
Are girls lovely as rush-wool;
But though they are lovely as rush-wool
There is none with whom my heart bides.
White jacket and madder skirt
Alone could bring me joy.

translated by Arthur Waley

from the Book of Songs: No. 22

Of fair girls the loveliest
Was to meet me at the corner of the Wall.
But she hides and will not show herself;
I scratch my head, pace up and down.

Of fair girls the prettiest
Gave me a red flute.
The flush of that red flute
Is pleasure at the girl’s beauty.

She has been in the pastures and brought for me rush-wood,
Very beautiful and rare.
It is not you that are beautiful;
But you were given by a lovely girl.

translated by Arthur Waley