Song of the Troops during the Expedition against the Hin-Yun

They gather the fern, the royal fern,
Now at its first appearing.
O when shall we turn, aye homeward turn?
One year its end is nearing.
O still, because of the wild Hin-Yuns,
From house and home remain we;
O still, because of the wild Hin-Yuns,
Nor rest nor leisure gain we.

They gather the fern, the royal fern,
Now supple grown and flexile.
O when shall we turn, aye homeward turn?
For grievous is this exile.
Disconsolate hearts here ache and ache,
And thirst we bear, and hunger;
And endless patrols forbid us make
The home inquiries longer.