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« Heï heï y ai; heï, heï ya…
When the bamboo leaves begin rustling in the wind, we seem to hear the sound of a hundred thousand men…
The water-lily blossoms, moistened by the rain, as beautiful as the three thousand servant girls bathing…
Last year the weather was kind, the harvest rich; the rain fell in time and the wind was proportious. This year will
also be good: if the harvest is fine we will sate our hunger and fill our bellies, our backs will be warm, we will be
happy.
Heï heï y ai; heï, heï ya…
Butterflies! Butterflies! Let’s go to the blue mountain! Tiger-striped butterflies! Come with us! If the night catches up
to us on the way, we will rest in flowery bouquets…
Let us go! If the flowers have fallen we will hide beneath the shadowy trees…
We crossed a carpet of flowers on our horses; at each step our mounts crushed the flowers and freed their perfumes…
Heï you heï you, eï, heï ya ya; ha ha, heï yo…
Comrades, o y tcha, ha tcha, ha, heï you, heï ya, o ho, tcho yo tcha, lift, lift our sticks… »

(Work song « taken by dictation from the laborers who worked in 1890 on French Commissariat in Seoul »
-quoted by Marcel Courant.)