The Book of Poetry, tr. by James Legge, , at sacred-texts.com
2Ripe, the plums fall from the bough;
Only three tenths left there now!
Ye who wish my love to gain,
Will not now apply in vain!
3No more plums upon the bough!
All are in my basket now!
Ye who me with ardor seek,
Need the word but freely speak!