Meng Jiao Poems
Meng Jiao Poems – Chant of the Rover
By Meng Jiao
In loving Mother’s hand a thread keeps shuttling,
To mend a traveling suit for thee who’rt parting.
O why doth she with stitches small, small sew?
For fear be thou away so long, long on th’ rove!
Say not a petty grass-blade grateful, can possibly repay
Spring sunshine’s nursing unfailing—throughout its suckling days!