People who buy flowers in Ch'ang-an
pay millions for just a few stems.
Beside the road there is a hungry man:
they don't give him a single cent.

Pease-pudding hot.
Pease-pudding cold,
Pease-pudding in the pot,
Nine days old.
Some like it hot,
Some like it cold,
Some like it in the pot,
Nine days old.

Peace maketh plenty;
Plenty maketh pride;
Pride maketh plea;
Plea maketh povert;
Povert maketh peace.

Patience ! coy songsters of the Delphic wood,
The brightest sun tempts forth the viper brood;
And, of all insects buds and blooms enclose,
The one that stinks the most infests the rose.

A parting meal, low lamp — stay and enjoy it a bit longer;
new mud on the road home — better wait till it dries.
On peaks across the river, clouds only now dispersing;
strings and songs in the house next door just beginning to fade in the night.
Intercalary month this spring — my guest lingers on,
though last night's rain heartlessly scattered the cherry flowers.
From here you go to Mino — not a long way away,
though, growing old, I know how hard it is to meet now and then.

Part of the work remains; one part is past:
And here my ship rides, having anchor cast.

Parrots have richly color'd wings,
Not so the sweetest bird that sings;
Not so the lonely plaintive dove;
In sadder stole she mourns her love,
And every Muse in every tongue
Has heard and prais'd her nightly song.

A skilfull hand this Satyre made so near
To life, that only Breath is wanting here:
I am attendant to the Nymphs; before
I fill'd out purple wine, now water powre;
Who ere thou art com'st nigh, tread softly, lest
You waken Love out of his pleasing rest.

Pale Ebenezer thought it wrong to fight,
But Roaring Bill (who killed him) thought it right.

Paddy, I have but stol'n your living,
And call'd you names beside:
Why are not you content and thankful,
If I am satisfied?
As I have done, so did my father,
And full of peace he died.