From the Harem of the Palace of Wei Poem by Helen Jane Waddell

The wind blows from the North.
He looks and his eyes are cold.
He looks and smiles and then goes forth,
My grief grows old.

The wind blows and the dust.
Tomorrow he swears he will come.
His words are kind, but he breaks his trust,
My heart is numb.

All day the wind blew strong,
The sun was buried deep.
I have thought of him so long, so long,
I cannot sleep.

The clouds are black with night,
The thunder brings no rain.
I wake and there is no light,
I bear my pain.

translated from the Chinese; written B.C. 718