<Header>
<Author: 白居易>
<Title: 自詠>
<Format: 七言律詩>
<Year: 1981>
<BookName: Tu Fu -A New Translation>
<Translator: Wu, Juntao>
<TranslatedTitle: Personal Song>
<BookPage: 397>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 1, 5>
<End Header>
<Poem>
白衣居士紫芝仙
半醉行歌半坐禪
今日維摩兼飲酒
當時綺季不請錢
等閒池上留賓客
隨事燈前有管絃
但問此身銷得否
分司氣味不論年
<End Poem>
<Translation>
This recluse, dressed in white,
Is in truth an Immortal among purple grasses.
He strolls about, singing, half-drunk
Or is half-crouching in Zen meditation.
I'm a modern Vimalakirti
Who also drinks wine,
A luminary of the times
Who requires no money from begging.
Much given to idleness,
I detain the guest by the pond.
There's harmony in all things,
As if between the string and reed music,
Heard here beneath the lamp.
Should you ask this person if he's despondent,
The answer is that the flavor of his retirement
Far exceeds the limitation of youthful years.
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
This recluse, dressed in white, is in truth an Immortal among purple grasses.
He strolls about, singing, half-drunk or is half-crouching in Zen meditation.
I'm a modern Vimalakirti who also drinks wine,
A luminary of the times who requires no money from begging.
Much given to idleness, I detain the guest by the pond.
There's harmony in all things, as if between the string and reed music, heard here beneath the lamp.
Should you ask this person if he's despondent,
The answer is that the flavor of his retirement far exceeds the limitation of youthful years.
<End Formatted Translation>