The Yay Yéw Sze Keun

In the wild lies an antelope dead,
Wrapt up in a mat of white grass.
With her thoughts of the spring comes a maid,
Whom a treacherous fop watches pass.

Scrubby oaks grow the forest around ;
In the wild there lies stretched a dead deer,
Close and tight with the white matting bound.
As a gem see the maiden appear.

Hold thy hand, and beware, Sir,” she cries.
“Be thou civil, and haste not to wrong.
Meddle not with my handkerchief’s ties.
Do not make my dog bark. Pass along.”