<Header>
<Author: 白居易>
<Title: 詠老贈夢得>
<Format: 格式不明>
<Year: 1919>
<BookName: Translation from the Chinese>
<Translator: Arthur Waley>
<TranslatedTitle: Old Age>
<BookPage: 253>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 5>
<End Header>
<Poem>
與君俱老也，
自問老何如。
眼澀夜先臥，
頭慵朝未梳。
有時扶杖出，
盡日閉門居。
嬾照新磨鏡，
休看小字書。
情於故人重，
迹共少年疎。
唯是閑談興，
相逢尚有餘。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
We are growing old together, you and I,
Let us ask ourselves, what is age like?
The dull eye is closed ere night comes;
The idle head, still uncombed at noon.
Propped on a staff, sometimes a walk abroad;
Or all day sitting with closed doors.
One dares not look in the mirror's polished face;
One cannot read small-letter books.
Deeper and deeper, one's love of old friends;
Fewer and fewer, one's dealings with young men.
One thing only, the pleasure of idle talk
Is great as ever, when you and I meet.
<End Translation>