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The Book of Poetry, tr. by James Legge, [1876], at


The Ho Ts‘ao Pu Huang; allusive and narrative. The misery and murmuring of soldiers constantly employed on expeditionary services, and treated without any consideration.

1Yellow now is all the grass;
All the days in marching pass.
On the move is every man;
Hard work, far and near, they plan. p. 330

2 Black is every plant become;
Every man is torn from home.
Kept on foot, our state is sad;—
As if we no feelings had!

3Not rhinoceroses we!
Tigers do we care to be?
Fields like these so desolate
Are to us a hateful fate.

4Long-tailed foxes pleased may hide
’Mong the grass, where they abide.
We, in box carts slowly borne,
On the great roads plod and mourn.

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