The Ch‘uh K‘e Tung Mun

My path forth from the east gate lay,
Where cloud-like moved the girls at play.
Numerous are they, as clouds so bright,
But not on them my heart’s thoughts light.
Dressed in a thin white silk, with coiffure gray,
Is she, my wife, my joy in life’s low way.

Forth by the covering wall’s high tower,
I went, and saw, like rush in flower,
Hach flaunting girl. Brilliant are they,
But not with them my heart’s thoughts stay.
In thin white silk, with head-dress madder-dyed,
Is she, my sole delight, foretime my bride.