The Séaou Ywen

The dove coos gently in the bush,
Then wings to heaven its flight.
My heart that broods o’er sorrow’s wound,
Thinks of our fathers bright.
When early dawn unseals my eyes,
Before my mind our parents rise.

Men grave and wise a cup may take,
And reason hold her sway.
But men benighted taste, and grow
More set on drink each day.
Let all deportment good maintain ;
Heaven’s gift once lost we ne’er regain.

All o’er the plain they gather beans,
Which they will sow again.
The grubs hatched on the mulberry tree
The sphex bears off to train.
Teach carefully your sons at home,
And good as you they will become.

Look at the wagtails! Quick they leap,
And twitter as they fly.
Let us as active be, for days
And months go swiftly by.
Rise early, and go late to sleep ;
The name you bear in honour keep.

The greenbeaks, driven by pinching want,
Frequent the yards for grain.
Alas for poor and lonely folks,
Whom prison walls restrain !
I sprinkle rice around my door,
And to be good, Heaven’s aid implore.

We must be meek, and cautious move,
As we were perched on trees.
We must be anxious, and take care,
As near a precipice.
We must put down our feet as nice,
As if we trod on thinnest ice.