<Header>
<Author: 白居易>
<Title: 夢得臥病...>
<Format: 五言律詩>
<Year: 1981>
<BookName: Tu Fu -A New Translation>
<Translator: Wu, Juntao>
<TranslatedTitle: Meng-te Lies Sick: Taking Wine, I Pay a Call …>
<BookPage: 441>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 1>
<End Header>
<Poem>
病來知少客
誰可以為娛
日晏開門未
秋寒有酒無
自宜相慰問
何必待招呼
小疾無妨飲
還須挈一壺
<End Poem>
<Translation>
I know that when sickness comes, suggests are few.
So with whom can I enjoy myself?
The sun is high, my door still closed.
Do you have wine on this cool autumn day?
It's naturally right for us to comfort one another.
Why wait for invitations?
There's no harm in drinking
When you're just slightly sick.
So I had to bring along a wine-jug.
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
I know that when sickness comes, suggests are few.
So with whom can I enjoy myself?
The sun is high, my door still closed.
Do you have wine on this cool autumn day?
It's naturally right for us to comfort one another.
Why wait for invitations?
There's no harm in drinking when you're just slightly sick.
So I had to bring along a wine-jug.
<End Formatted Translation>