The Book of Songs

from The Book of Songs: No. 46

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Oh, you with the blue collar,
On and on I think of you.
Even though I do not go to you,
You might surely send me news?

Oh, you with the blue collar,
Always and ever I long for you.
Even though I do not go to you,
You might surely sometimes come?

Here by the wall-gate
I pace to and fro.
One day when I do not see you
Is like three months.

translated by Arthur Waley

from The Book of Songs, No. 124

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I climb that wooded hill
And look towards where my father is.
My father is saying, ‘Alas, my son is on service;
Day and night he knows no rest.
Grant that he is being careful of himself,
So that he may come back and not be left behind.’

I climb that bare hill
And look towards where my mother is.
My mother is saying, ‘Alas, my young one is on service;
Day and night he gets no sleep.
Grant that he is being careful of himself,
So that he may come back, and not be cast away.’

I climb that ridge
And look towards where my elder brother is.
My brother is saying, ‘Alas, my young brother is on service;
Day and night he toils.
Grant that he is being careful of himself,
So that he may come back and not die.’

translated by Arthur Waley

from The Book of Songs: untitled poem 1

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A moon rising white
Is the beauty of my lovely one.
Ah, the tenderness, the grace!
Heart’s pain consumes me.

A moon rising bright
Is the fairness of my lovely one.
Ah, the gentle softness!
Heart’s pain wounds me.

A moon rising in splendour
Is the beauty of my lovely one.
Ah, the delicate yielding!
Heart’s pain torments me.

translated by Arthur Waley