<Header>
<Author: 白居易>
<Title: 書事詠懷>
<Format: 五言古詩>
<Year: 1981>
<BookName: Tu Fu -A New Translation>
<Translator: Wu, Juntao>
<TranslatedTitle: Writing of Things, Singing of My Feelings>
<BookPage: 46>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 1, 5>
<End Header>
<Poem>
官俸將生計
雖貧豈敢嫌
金多輸陸賈
酒足腃陶潛
牀煖僧敷坐
樓晴妓卷簾
日遭齋破用
春賴閏加添
老向歡彌切
狂於飲無廉
十年閒未足
亦恐涉無厭
<End Poem>
<Translation>
Though official salary and livelihood are poor,
How dare I complain?
I've more money than Lu Chia
And a sufficient quantity of wines
Better than those of T'ao Ch'ien.
My bed is warm.
I sit in priestly meditation.
My tower bedroom is neat,
My concubine rolls up the screen.
Days were gladly spent this spring in fasting,
With reliance on the coming intercalary month.
Though I am old
I am still earnest in seeking pleasure.
I grow wild with drink, never tiring of wine.
Ten years of idleness may not be enough,
For I never tire of living in freedom.
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
Though official salary and livelihood are poor,
How dare I complain?
I've more money than Lu Chia
And a sufficient quantity of wines
Better than those of T'ao Ch'ien.
My bed is warm. I sit in priestly meditation.
My tower bedroom is neat, My concubine rolls up the screen.
Days were gladly spent this spring in fasting,
With reliance on the coming intercalary month.
Though I am old I am still earnest in seeking pleasure.
I grow wild with drink, never tiring of wine.
Ten years of idleness may not be enough,
For I never tire of living in freedom.
<End Formatted Translation>