The Orphan

To be an orphan,To be fated to be an orphan.How bitter is this lot!When my father and mother were aliveI used to ride in a carriageWith four fine horses.

But when they both died,My brother and sister-in-lawSent me out to be a merchant.In the south I travelled to the “Nine Rivers”And in the east as far as Ch’i and Lu.At the end of the year when I came homeI dared not tell them what I had suffered--Of the lice and vermin in my head,Of the dust in my face and eyes.My brother told me to get ready the dinner.My sister-in-law told me to see after the horses.I was always going up into the hallAnd running down again to the parlour.My tears fell like rain.

In the morning they sent me to draw water,I didn’t get back till night-fall.My hands were all soreAnd I had no shoes.I walked the cold earthTreading on thorns and brambles.As I stopped to pull out the thorns,How bitter my heart was!My tears fell and fellAnd I went on sobbing and sobbing.In winter I have no great-coat;Nor in summer, thin clothes.It is no pleasure to be alive.I had rather quickly leave the earthAnd go beneath the Yellow Springs.The April winds blowAnd the grass is growing green.In the third month--silkworms and mulberries,In the sixth month--the melon-harvest.I went out with the melon-cartAnd just as I was coming homeThe melon-cart turned over.The people who came to help me were few,But the people who ate the melons were many,All they left me was the stalks--To take home as fast as I could.My brother and sister-in-law were harsh,They asked me all sorts of awful questions.Why does everyone in the village hate me?I want to write a letter and send itTo my mother and father under the earth,And tell them I can’t go on any longerLiving with my brother and sister-in-law.