A FAREWELL BANQUET TO MY FATHER'S YOUNGER BROTHER YÜN, THE IMPERIAL LIBRARIAN

When I was young, I spent the white days lavishly. I sang—I laughed—I boasted of my ruddy face. I do not realize that now, suddenly, I am old. With joy I see the Spring wind return. It is a pity that we must part, but let us make the best of it and be happy. We walk to and fro among the peach-trees and plum-trees. We look at the flowers and drink excellent wine. We listen to the birds and climb a little way up the bright hills. Soon evening comes and the bamboo grove is silent. There is no one—I shut my door.