While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead

    I played about the front gate， pulling flowers.

    You came by on bamboo stilts¹， playing horse，

    You walked about my seat， playing with blue plums.

    And we went on living in the village of Chokan：

    Two small people， without dislike or suspicion.

    At fourteen I married My Lord you.

    I never laughed， being bashful.

    Lowering my head， I looked at the wall.

    Called to， a thousand times， I never looked back.

    At fifteen I stopped scowling²，

    I desired my dust to be mingled³ with yours

    Forever and forever and forever.

    Why should I climb the look out？

    At sixteen you departed，

    You went into far Ku-to-yen， by the river of swirling⁴ eddies⁵，

    And you have been gone five months.

    The monkeys make sorrowful noise overhead.

    You dragged your feet when you went out.

    By the gate now， the moss⁶ is grown， the different mosses⁷，

    Too deep to clear them away！

    The leaves fall early this autumn， in wind.

    The paired butterflies are already yellow with August

    Over the grass in the West garden；

    They hurt me.  I grow older.

    If you are coming down through the narrows of the river Kiang，

    Please let me know beforehand，

    And I will come out to meet you

    As far as Cho-fu-Sa.