The Book of Poetry, tr. by James Legge, , at sacred-texts.com
2The spreading dolichos extended far,
Covering the valley's sides, down to its depths,
With leaves luxuriant and dense. I cut
It down, then boiled, and from the fibers span
Of cloth, both fine and coarse, large store,
To wear, unwearied of such simple dress.
3Now back to my old home, my parents dear
To see, I go. The matron I have told,
Who will announcement make. Meanwhile my clothes,
My private clothes I wash, and rinse my robes.
Which of them need be rinsed? and which need not?
My parents dear to visit, back I go.