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Confucius - A Man`s Praise Of His Wife
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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,
  Each 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.
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