The Wisdom of Confucius with Critical and Biographical Sketches · Confucius
AN OFFICER SETS FORTH HIS HARD LOT
My way leads forth by the gate on the north; My heart is full of woe. I hav'n't a cent, begged, stolen, or lent, And friends forget me so. So let it be! 'tis Heaven's decree. What can I say--a poor fellow like me? The King has his throne, sans sorrow or moan; On me fall all his cares, And when I come home, resolved not to roam, Each one indignant stares. So let it be! 'tis Heaven's decree. What can I say--a poor fellow like me? Each thing of the King, and the fate of the State, On me come more and more. And when, sad and worn, I come back forlorn, They thrust me from the door. So let it be! 'tis Heaven's decree. What can I say--a poor fellow like me?
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.