国风·邶风·凯风

凯风自南，吹彼棘心。棘心夭夭，母氏劬劳。
凯风自南，吹彼棘薪。母氏圣善，我无令人。
爰有寒泉？在浚之下。有子七人，母氏劳苦。
睍睆黄鸟，载好其音。有子七人，莫慰母心。
Our Mother

From the south blows the breeze
Amid the jujube trees.
The trees grow on the soil;
We live on mother's toil.

From the south blows the breeze
On branches of the trees.
Our mother's good to sons;
We are not worthy ones.

The fountain's water runs
To feed the stream and soil.
Our mother's seven sons
Are fed by her hard toil.
The yellow birds can sing
To comfort us with art.
We seven sons can't bring
Comfort to mother's heart.