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In the first month [of summer] the hoar-frost abounds, |
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And my heart is wounded with sorrow. |
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The false calumnies of the people, |
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Also wax greater and greater. |
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I think how I stand alone, |
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And the sorrow of my heart grows intense. |
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Alas! through my anxious cares, |
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My hidden sorrow goes on to make me ill. |
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Ye parents who gave me birth! |
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Was it to make me suffer this pain? |
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[Why was this time] not before me? |
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Or [why was it] not after me? |
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Their good words are [only] from the mouth; |
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Their bad words are [only] from the mouth. |
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The sorrow of my heart becomes greater, |
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And because of this I incur contempt. |
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My sorrow heart is very sad; |
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I think of my unfortunate position. |
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The innocent people, |
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Will all be reduced to servitude with me. |
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Alas for me! |
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From whom shall I henceforth get support? |
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I see a crow which will rest, |
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-- But on whose house? |
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Look into the middle of the forest; |
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There are [only] large faggots and small branches in it. |
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The people now amidst their perils, |
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Look to Heaven, all dark. |
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But let its determination be fixed, |
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And there is none whom it will not overcome. |
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There is the great God, -- |
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Does He hate any one? |
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If one say of a hill that it is low, |
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There are its ridges, and its large masses. |
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The false calumnies of the people, -- |
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How is it that you do not repress them? |
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You call those experienced ancients; |
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You consult the diviner of dreams: |
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They all say, ' We are wise; |
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But who can distinguish the male and female crow? ' |
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We say of the heavens that they are high, |
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But I dare not but stoop under them. |
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We say of the earth that it is thick, |
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But I dare not but walk daintily on it. |
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For my freely expressing myself thus, |
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I have reason, I have good ground. |
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Alas for the men of this time! |
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Why are they such cobras and efts? |
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Look at that rugged and stony field; -- |
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Luxuriantly rises in it the springing grain! |
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[But] Heaven moves and shakes me, |
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As if it could not overcome me. |
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They sought me [at first] to be a pattern [to them], |
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[Eagerly] as if they could not get me. |
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[Now] they regard me with great animosity, |
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And will not use my strength. |
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My heart with its sorrow, |
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Feels as if it were tied and bound by something. |
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This government of the present time, -- |
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How oppressive it is! |
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The flames, when they are blazing, |
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May still perhaps be extinguished; |
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But the majestic honoured capital of Zhou, |
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Is being destroyed by Si of Bao. |
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This issue is ever my anxious thought. |
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Moreover, you have the embarrassment of soaking rain. |
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Your carriage is loaded, |
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And if you throw away your wheel-aids, |
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Your load will be overturned, |
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And you will be crying, ' O sir, help me! ' |
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If you do throw away your wheel-aids, |
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Which give asistance to the spokes; |
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And if you constantly look after the driver, |
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You will not overturn your load, |
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And in the end will get over the most difficult places; |
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But you have not thought of this. |
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The fish are in the pond, |
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But they cannot enjoy themselves. |
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Although they dive to the bottom, |
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They are very clearly seen. |
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My sorrow heart is deeply pained, |
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When I think of the oppression in the kingdom. |
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They have their good spirits, |
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And their fine viands along with them. |
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They assemble their neighbours, |
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And their relatives are full of their praise. |
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When I think of my solitariness, |
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My sorrowing heart is full of distress. |
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Mean-like, those have their houses; |
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Abjects, they will have their emoluments. |
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But the people now have no maintenance. |
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For Heaven is pounding them with its calamities, |
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The rich may get through, |
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But alas for the helpless and solitary! |
Published
by The Institute for Advanced Technology in the Humanities, © Copyright 2003
by Anne Kinney and the University of Virginia