guófēng·zhàonán

2-1

The magpie has built its nest; The dove dwells in it. The lady is going to her new home; A hundred carriages meet her. The magpie has built its nest; The dove possesses it. The lady is going to her new home; A hundred carriages escort her. The magpie has built its nest; The dove fills it. The lady is going to her new home; A hundred carriages complete the train.

GLM · 2025 · machine-generated

2-2

She gathers the white southernwood, By the ponds, on the islets. She employs it, In the business of our prince. She gathers the white southernwood, Along the streams in the valleys. She employs it, In the temple of our prince. With head-dress reverently rising aloft, Early, while yet it is night, she is in the prince's (temple). In her head-dress, slowly retiring, She returns (to her own apartments).

Legge · 1879 · public domain

2-3

Wū-wū cry the grasshoppers, Chirp-chirp the locust. I have not seen my lord, My heart is full of sorrow. Now that I see him, Now that I meet him, My heart is at rest. I climb that southern hill, And gather the ferns. I have not seen my lord, My heart is full of grief. Now that I see him, Now that I meet him, My heart finds peace. In the past you were gone, In the time of the catalpa and the cedar. Now that you return, With the growth of the white millet, My heart is comforted.

GLM · 2025 · machine-generated

2-4

She gathers the large duckweed, By the banks of the stream in the southern valley. She gathers the pondweed, In those pools left by the floods. She deposits what she gathers, In her square baskets and round ones. She boils it, In her tripods and pans. She sets forth her preparations, Under the window in the ancestral chamber. Who superintends the business? It is (this) reverent young lady.

Legge · 1879 · public domain

2-5

In the south are the trees, The wild mulberry and the catalpa. They are content with their lot, Their leaves are dark and dense. I long to see you, But you are far from me. I climb that rugged cliff, I gaze at my father's land. But my father has said, 'I labour night and day.' My mind is one of anxious care, Let me have no idle word. I climb that lofty mountain, I gaze at my mother's land. But my mother has said, 'I have no rest night and day.' My mind is one of anxious care, Let me have no idle word.

GLM · 2025 · machine-generated

2-6

Damp is the dew on the path; I would not go early or late, But say the path is full of dew. Who says the bird has no beak? How then has it pierced my roof? Who says this man has no ties? How then has he brought me to court? But though you bring me to court, I will not follow you. Who says the rat has no teeth? How then has it bored through my wall? Who says this man has no ties? How then has he pressed me to suit? But though you press me to suit, I will never yield.

GLM · 2025 · machine-generated

2-7

The skin of the lamb, With five floss-silk stitches. From the public feast returning, Easy and graceful, easy and graceful. The fleece of the lamb, With five floss-silk bands. Easy and graceful, easy and graceful, From the public feast returning. The seam of the lamb, With five floss-silk gathers. Easy and graceful, easy and graceful, From the public feast returning.

GLM · 2025 · machine-generated

2-8

Roll the thunders, On the south side of the mountain. Why does he leave this, Daring not to pause? True and noble prince — Return, oh return! Roll the thunders, By the side of the southern mountain. Why does he leave this, Daring not to rest? True and noble prince — Return, oh return! Roll the thunders, At the foot of the southern mountain. Why does he leave this, Not pausing to dwell? True and noble prince — Return, oh return!

GLM · 2025 · machine-generated

2-9

The plums are dropping, Seven-tenths remain. Those who would court me, Seize the lucky day. The plums are dropping, Three-tenths remain. Those who would court me, Seize this very day. The plums are dropping, Into the shallow basket. Those who would court me, Say but the word.

GLM · 2025 · machine-generated

2-10

The river has its branches; This lady goes to her new home. She does not take me with her — She does not take me with her — But she will regret it later. The river has its islets; This lady goes to her new home. She will not join me — She will not join me — But she will dwell apart. The river has its forks; This lady goes to her new home. She does not visit me — She does not visit me — But she will wail her sorrow.

GLM · 2025 · machine-generated

2-11

In the wild there lies a dead deer, Wrapped in white southernwood. A girl longs for the spring, A good man woos her. The forest has its brushwood, In the wild lies a dead stag, Bound round with white southernwood. There is a girl like jade. Slowly, oh so gently! Do not stir my kerchief! Do not make the dog bark!

GLM · 2025 · machine-generated

2-12

How rich and splendid Are the blossoms of the cherry-apple! How grave and harmonious Is the carriage of the royal lady! How rich and splendid, Blossoms like peach and plum! The granddaughter of king Ping, The son of the marquis of Qi! What do you angle with? With a line of silk. The son of the marquis of Qi, The granddaughter of king Ping!

GLM · 2025 · machine-generated

2-13

The reeds spring up; One shot — five sows. Alas for the warden of the hunt! The mugwort springs up; One shot — five boars. Alas for the warden of the hunt!

GLM · 2025 · machine-generated