<Header>
<Author: 杜甫>
<Title: 病馬>
<Format: 五言律詩>
<Year: 1985>
<BookName: Tu Fu, One Hundred and Fifty Poems>
<Translator: Wu, Juntao>
<TranslatedTitle: The Sick Horse>
<BookPage: 132-133>
<UsedPage: 2>
<Feature: 0>
<End Header>
<Poem>
乘爾亦已久，
天寒關塞深。
塵中老盡力，
歲晚病傷心。
毛骨豈殊眾？
馴良猶至今。
物微意不淺，
感動一沉吟。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
You give me a ride for many a year;
Now it is cold at the mountain pass here.
Towards the year's end, on the path muddy,
I'm sorry you towing your old, sick body.
Is it special of your bones and sinew?
You're docile and tame ever since I knew.
You're noble-minded, though you look humble,
I sigh, and the waves in my heart tumble.
<End Translation>