<Header>
<Author: 白居易>
<Title: 題文集櫃>
<Format: 格式不明>
<Year: 1919>
<BookName: Translation from the Chinese>
<Translator: Arthur Waley>
<TranslatedTitle: On A Box Containing His Own Works>
<BookPage: 248>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 4>
<End Header>
<Poem>
破柏作書櫃，
櫃牢柏復堅。
收貯誰家集，
題云白樂天。
我生業文字，
自幼及老年。
前後七十卷，
小大三千篇。
誠知終散失，
未忍遽棄捐。
自開自鎖閉，
置在書帷前。
身是鄧伯道，
世無王仲宣。
只應分付女，
留與外孫傳。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
I break up cypress and make a book-box;
The box well-made,－and the cypress-wood tough.
In it shall be kept what author's works?
The inscription says PO-LO-T'IEN.
All my life has been spent in writing books,
From when I was young till now that I am old.
First and last,－seventy whole volumes;
Big and little,－three thousand themes.
Well I know in the end they'll be scattered and lost;
But I cannot bear to see them thrown away,
With my own hand I open and shut the locks,
And put it carefully in front of the book-curtain.
I am like Tēng Pai-tao;
But to-day there is not any Wang Ts'an.
All I can do is to divide them among my daughters
To be left by them to give to my grandchildren.
<End Translation>