These are dramatic verses and folksongs of the Ming dynasty (1368-1644).
Folksongs
Dialogue Between Mother and Daughter
Mother:
You little born self-degrading wanton,
Where were you when I called?
Why do you tremble with fear?
Why are you blushing?
Why is your hairpin lost?
Why?
Why?
Why are your black silk-like tresses disheveled?
Alas!
Daughter:
Grieved mother, I'm not self-degrading.
Since I was absent when you called,
I tremble with fear upon arriving.
My cheeks are red with rouge,
I lost my hairpin when I was on the swing.
While I was reaching for the flowers at the corner of the wall.
While I was reaching for the flowers of the wall,
The branches disheveled my black silk-like tresses,
Alas!
Mother:
Talk no nonsense, contradict not, little wanton,
A more skillful liar was I when a lass.
You tremble because you were detained by your
lover,
You are blushing with shame,
And as a souvenir you gave away your hairpin.
While stealthily making love,
While stealthily making love
Your black silk-like tresses got disheveled,
Alas!
Daughter:
Your little daughter dare not talk nonsense nor contradict.
May my mother pardon her child for telling the truth.
I tremble because my beau detained me,
I became red with tipsiness while drinking out of the nuptial cup,
And my handsome lover robbed me of my hairpin.
In a sort of enchantment,
In a sort of enchantment,
I did not mind being disheveled,
Alas!
Modeled on the "Regret of the Lo River"
Beyond my casement,
The moon is already slanting.
For my beloved, I left my door half open
And arranged the twin pillows.
Weary of waiting,
I played my jade lute under the lamp
But only love songs poured out from my fingers.
Where is he, indulging in wine and women,
A bandoning me to the solitary lamp?
Say not he is ungrateful,
Say not he forsakes me for another,
It's only my ill fate.
Gift of Love
Melon seeds are nothing rare,
I sent them wrapped in a handkerchief to my beloved.
Each one of them had been on my tongue tip,
A gift of no great material value but laden with love profound
And this quality itself should suffice.
I sent them with this prayer:
"May you forget me not."
Dream
At the second watch,
In ecstasy, I was reunited with my beloved in a dream.
A thousand times loving,
Ten thousand times fondling,
Embracing each other,
We kissed and kissed again.
Suddenly I woke up,
Bewildered;
The one in my dream had disappeared.
Yet once again I must seek him out in a dream.
I bid the one who was in my dream
A wait me there without fail.
Farewell
I accompanied my beloved to the road of Tan Yang.
He wept, I wept,
So did the charioteer.
Say, charioteer,
You are weeping too, wherefore?"
Said the charioteer:
''The traveler is reluctant to leave,
And you, my lady, you keep on weeping.
While you both lovingly linger,
My donkey suffers."
Flirtation
My dream was rather funny:
I dreamed you were flirting with another.
Yet here you are in my arms when I wake.
Incapable of indifference,
Tightly I hold you to slumber more.
I only wish you wouldn't go to another in my dream
Though you'll still be by my side when I wake.
Midnight
Beloved, said the damsel,
Knock not at the back door when you arrive at midnight.
Catch one of the chickens and pull off some feathers
As if a lynx were making it cackle,
So I can come out, in thin skirt, as if to chase
the lynx away.
Dramatic Verses
Modeled on "South Branches Entwined"
By Sheo Shih
While my parents were asleep,
For an instant I slipped out Lest he await in vain.
Hardly I beheld him then my cheeks were filled with joy
And my heart became impatient.
Trembling with my whole body,
With hands nervous,
Hastily I undid the belt of my embroidered skirt.
Modeled on "Plum Flowers Blown
by the Wind"
Lighting silvery candles
Under the pervading purple evening clouds,
We get drunk under a bower bedecked with begonias.
Methinks life is like flowers under a bower.
How can it bear the wild rain and sudden wind?
Indolence
By Ch'en To
Bright, bright, spread the crimson evening clouds on the waters,
Slim, slim, the reed flowers bedeck the prow.
Like a string, wine pouring out from the jar,
The autumn river is adorned with seagulls.
If you ask where my home is,
Inside the wooden gate among the red-leafed trees.
Modeled on "Tipsy in the Spring Wind"
By Ch'aog Lueo
The rustling, green bamboos stirred me from my dream,
A fallen leaf of plane tree announced the approaching autumn.
Far and near, loom the hills pale and hazy,
Trees high and low -
A new painting of Chinese ink hung in the air.
In front of a jar of wine, I finished writing a hundred poems
While listening to the rain in my east pavilion.