Swallows feed their young in the nest, bamboo shoots are growing,
Which of the two of us will plant the new crops
Unmarried, no ox, not as good as a plow,
Hacking at the ground with a knife making mud.
My family is poor, my mother is old.
My brother in the army, not married, no sister in law.
Last year was a disaster, sickness killed our cattle,
Our silk clothes we cut up to buy a sharp knife.
A scarf on my head to hide my face,
Compare me with my knife to a cow.
As sisters, we suffer the same,
With eyes only for the ground.
In the rows and ridges thinning the seed,
Digging ditches, praying for rain.
The sun over head shines on the southern ridge as the men return with their pay,
Take pity this morning as the pheasants are frightened.
All about, the flowers have all blossomed,
Together, we’ll cherish the fragrance we remember.
Through the voice of two women, the poet, Dai Shulun, considers the value of a woman at work in the field.
Dai Shulun was an eastern poet, hailing from the province of Jiangsu. He was a prolific poet, but most have his poems have not survived.
乳燕入巢笋成竹,谁家二女种新谷。
无人无牛不及犁,持刀斫地翻作泥。
自言家贫母年老,长兄从军未娶嫂。
去年灾疫牛囤空,截绢买刀都市中。
头巾掩面畏人识,以刀代牛谁与同?
姊妹相携心正苦,不见路人唯见土。
疏通畦垄防乱苗,整顿沟塍待时雨。
日正南冈下饷归,可怜朝雉扰惊飞。
东邻西舍花发尽,共惜余芳泪满衣。
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