I was a silkworm girl,
Unaware of noble ways.
My man wields a jade axe,
Mingling with the young lords.
We meet but once in ten days,
Nine days he's on the road.
Such a husband in this life,
What use is wealth and rank?
Willows may be broken off,
But the South Mountain stands firm.
A woman values her first marriage,
How could she have means to remarry?
Don't marry your daughter too high,
Her own heart knows what's fitting.
Better to stay with a humble man,
Than to part from a noble one.
Indigo leaves grow thick and dense,
Its flowers like pomegranate hue.
A young wife returns to her young man,
Their splendor shines in mutual accord.
Who says she must match a gentleman,
To serve him for a hundred years?
If there's loyalty, he is her husband;
If none, he's just another man.
Love is like a cold stove's fire,
Abandoned like an autumn fan.
Mountains rise before my eyes,
We gaze but cannot see each other.
A husband is no little child,
Why force mutual understanding?
Have you not seen the morning mushroom,
Easily grown, easily withered?
The traveler is about to set off,
The stayer still sees him out.
North wind on the river bridge,
Sorrowful clouds fill the wilds.
Do I not love my home?
My husband is full of gratitude.
His future holds sun and moon,
His merit lies at the river's source.
The young wife stands before the horse,
Please, sir, listen to a word.
When spring comes grass grows too,
Who can be without parting sorrow?
Sincerely I lay bare my heart,
Seeing the new, do not forget the old.
Gazing afar at Mengmen Mountain,
Earnestly I report to you, my lord.
Since you are a wild goose following the sun,
Do not learn from the west-flowing stream.
I've heard of parting in life,
No grief is worse than this.
Same vessel, different glory,
Below the hall, a thousand miles apart.
Our bond formed in poverty,
Is like duckweed on water.
Our lot is decreed by heaven,
To live together and die together.