<Header>
<Author: 白居易>
<Title: 詠老贈夢得>
<Format: 古詩>
<Year: 1981>
<BookName: Tu Fu -A New Translation>
<Translator: Wu, Juntao>
<TranslatedTitle: Sighing about Old Age: Sent to Liu Yü-hsi>
<BookPage: 211>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 1>
<End Header>
<Poem>
與君俱老也
自問老如何
眼澀夜先臥
頭慵朝未梳
有時扶杖出
盡日閉門居
懶照新磨鏡
休看小字書
情形故人重
跡共少年疏
唯是閒談興
相逢尚有餘
<End Poem>
<Translation>
As I grow old along with you,
Again I ask myself, what resembles age?
Befuddled eyes first close in sleep at night;
The lazy man's head remains uncombed at morning.
Some days I go out supported by my cane,
Some days I stay at home all day behind closed doors.
I am loathe to see my reflection
In the newly polished mirror,
Or to read books written in small characters.
I lean heavily on old friends,
Have little affinity with youth.
I only care for idle conversation.
If I see you, there'll be words in excess.
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
As I grow old along with you,
Again I ask myself, what resembles age?
Befuddled eyes first close in sleep at night;
The lazy man's head remains uncombed at morning.
Some days I go out supported by my cane,
Some days I stay at home all day behind closed doors.
I am loathe to see my reflection in the newly polished mirror,
Or to read books written in small characters.
I lean heavily on old friends,
Have little affinity with youth.
I only care for idle conversation.
If I see you, there'll be words in excess.
<End Formatted Translation>