<Header>
<Author: 杜甫>
<Title: 贈衛八處士>
<Format: 五言古詩>
<Year: 1944>
<BookName: A FURTHER SELECTION FROM THE THREE HUNDRED POEMS OF THE T'ANG DYNASTY>
<Translator: SOAME JENYNS>
<TranslatedTitle: A Presentation to Wei Pa, a retired Scholar>
<BookPage: 18>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 1, 2, 4>
<End Header>
<Poem>
人生不相見，
動如參與商。
今夕復何夕，
共此燈燭光。
少壯能幾時，
鬢髮各已蒼。
訪舊半爲鬼，
驚呼熱中腸。
焉知二十載，
重上君子堂。
昔別君未婚，
兒女忽成行。
怡然敬父執，
問我來何方。
問荅乃未已，
兒女羅酒漿。
夜雨剪春韭，
新炊間黃粱。
主稱會面難，
一舉累十觴。
十觴亦不醉，
感子故意長。
明日隔山岳，
世事兩茫茫。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
FRIENDSHIPS are made only to be broken.
Orion far from Lucifer must shine.
Strange to-night of all nights
We should $((sit))$ together by the light of the same candle.
Youth and strength, how long do they last?
My beard and hair are both already grizzled.
Visiting ancient friends I find half of them among the ghosts,
But now I meet you my heart is warmed.
How was I to know that I should have to wait twenty years
Before I could revisit your home?
When we last parted you were not married;
Now all of a sudden I find you with a family of sons and daughters;
Politely and with looks of pleasure they wait on their father's old friend
Asking me from where I come.
We have not yet come to the end of our questions and answers,
(When) you bid the youngsters bring wine and set it before us.
Spring onions are cut in the evening rain
And are cooked fresh with yellow millet.
The host discourses of how difficult it is to bring about a meeting
And pledges me again and again;
Even after ten cups we are not drunk
Only we have become sentimental over our reminiscences.
To-morrow the Western Hills will divide us,
And the affairs of the world 
Will make us dim to each other.
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
FRIENDSHIPS are made only to be broken.
Orion far from Lucifer must shine.
Strange to-night of all nights
We should $((sit))$ together by the light of the same candle.
Youth and strength, how long do they last?
My beard and hair are both already grizzled.
Visiting ancient friends I find half of them among the ghosts,
But now I meet you my heart is warmed.
How was I to know that I should have to wait twenty years
Before I could revisit your home?
When we last parted you were not married;
Now all of a sudden I find you with a family of sons and daughters;
Politely and with looks of pleasure they wait on their father's old friend
Asking me from where I come.
We have not yet come to the end of our questions and answers,
(When) you bid the youngsters bring wine and set it before us.
Spring onions are cut in the evening rain
And are cooked fresh with yellow millet.
The host discourses of how difficult it is to bring about a meeting
And pledges me again and again;
Even after ten cups we are not drunk
Only we have become sentimental over our reminiscences.
To-morrow the Western Hills will divide us,
And the affairs of the world Will make us dim to each other.
<End Formatted Translation>