Two odes representing the timeless common resentment of the working peasant for the idle rich.
The Woodman's Song
K'an-k'an upon the sandal trees
The woodman's strokes resound.
Then on the bank he lays the trunks
His axe brings to the ground;
The while the stream goes rippling by,
Its waters cool and clear.
You sow no seed; no harbest taks
Your soft hands take in charge;
And yet each boasts three hundred farms,
And stores the produce large.
You never join the hunt's halloo,
Nor dare to share its toils;
Yet lo! your wide courtyards are seen
Hung round with badgers' spoils.
That gentleman!
He does not eat the bred of idleness indeed!
K'an-k'an upon the sandal wood
The woodman's strokes resound,
The by the river's side he lays
What fit for spokes is found;
The while the river onward flows,
Its waters clear and smooth.
You sow no seed; no harvest tasks
Your dainty fingers stain;
And yet each boasts three million sheaves; --
Whence gets he all that grain?
You never join the hunt's halloo,
Nor brave its ventures bold;
Yet lo! your wide courtyards display
Those boars of three years old.
That gentleman!
He does not eat the bred of idleness indeed!
K'an-k'an resound the woodman's strokes
Upon the sandal wood;
Then on the river's lip he lays
What for his wheels is good;
The while the river onward flows,
Soft rippled by the wind.
You sow no seed; no harvest tasks
Your soft hands undertake;
Yret grain each boats, three hundred bins; --
Who his that grain did make?
You never join the hunt's halloo;
Your feeble courage fails;
Yet lo! your wide courtyards display
Large strings of slaughtered quails.
That gentleman!
He does not eat the bred of idleness indeed!
Large Rats
(The poet proposes to leave his country of Wei.)
Large rats, large rats, let us entreat
That you our millet will not eat.
But the large rats we mean are you,
With whom three years we've had to do,
And all that time have never known
One look of kindness on us thrown.
We take our leave of Wei and you;
That happier land we long to view.
O happy land! O happy land!
There in our proper place we'll stand.
Large rats, large rats, let us entreat
You'll not devour our crops of wheat.
But the large rats we mean are you,
With whom three years we've had to do;
And all that time you never wrought
One kindly act to cheer our lot.
To you and Wei we bid farewell,
Soon in that happier State to dwell.
O happy State! O happy State!
There shall we learn to bless our fate.
Large rats, large rats, let us entreat
Our springing grain you will not eat.
But the large rats we mean are you,
With whom three years we've had to do.
From you there came not all that while
One word of comfort 'mid our toil.
We take our leave of you and Wei;
And to those happier coasts we flee.
O happy coasts, to you we wend!
There shall our groans and sorrows end.
