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JIAN JIA

The reeds and rushes are deeply green,
And the white dew is turned into hoarfrost.
The man of whom I think,
Is somewhere about the water.
I go up the stream in quest of him,
But the way is difficult and long.
I go down the stream in quest of him,
And lo! he is right in the midst of the water.
The reeds and rushes are luxuriant,
And the white dew is not yet dry.
The man of whom I think,
Is on the margin of the water.
I go up the stream in quest of him,
But the way is difficult and steep.
I go down the stream in quest of him,
And lo! he is on the islet in the midst of the water.
The reeds and rushes are abundant,
And the white dew is not yet ceased.
The man of whom I think,
Is on the bank of the river.
I go up the stream in quest of him,
But the way is difficult and turns to the right.
I go down the stream in quest of him,
And lo! he is on the island in the midst of the water.
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IATHPublished by The Institute for Advanced Technology in the Humanities, © Copyright 2003 by Anne Kinney and the University of Virginia