Book I. The Odes of Chou and the South: III. Chüan Êrh

III The Chüan Êrh; narrative. Lamenting the absence of a cherished friend, probably of a husband. 1Though small my basket, all my toil Filled it with mouse-ears but in part. I set it on the path, and sighed For the dear master of my heart. 2My steeds, o’ertasked, their progress stayed, When midway up that rocky height. Give me a cup from that gilt vase, When shall this longing end in sight? 3To mount that lofty ridge I drove, Until my steeds all changed their hue. A cup from that rhinoceros’ horn May help my longing to subdue. 4Striving to reach that flat-topped hill, My steeds, worn out, relaxed their strain; My driver also sank oppressed: I'll never see my lord again!