GENIUSES don't know what it is to be young—
How the sun's chariot limps upon its way!
Long years of striving for a double ribbon
Left me with nothing more than whitened hair.
The bluebottles have long since ceased to whine
Round Chia Yi's grave by the gates of the capital.
At the Cold Food Festival, with skies awhirl.
The angry landscape seems as bleak as winter.
Of the twelve emperors of Former Han
Only one deserved to be called wise.
Yet even he one evening listened to fools,
And ended his fine reputation for ever.