<Header>
<Author: 李白>
<Title: 將進酒>
<Format: 樂府詩>
<Year: 1919>
<BookName: Gems of Chinese Verse>
<Translator: W. J. B. Fletcher>
<TranslatedTitle: THE FEAST OF LIFE>
<BookPage: 15-16>
<UsedPage: 2>
<Feature: 1, 4>
<End Header>
<Poem>
君不見黃河之水天上來，
奔流到海不復迴。
君不見高堂明鏡悲白髮，
朝如青絲暮成雪。
人生得意須盡歡，
莫使金樽空對月。
天生我材必有用，
千金散盡還復來。
烹羊宰牛且爲樂，
會須一飲三百盃。
岑夫子，
丹丘生，
將進酒，
君莫停。
與君歌一曲，
請君爲我側耳聽。
鐘鼓饌玉不足貴，
但願長醉不願醒。
古來聖賢皆寂寞，
惟有飲者留其名。
陳王昔時宴平樂，
斗酒十千恣讙謔。
主人何爲言少錢，
徑須沽取對君酌。
五花馬，
千金裘，
呼兒將出換美酒，
與爾同銷萬古愁。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
Sweet thou not the Yellow River coming from the Sky,
Downward to the Ocean flowing, never turning back
How thy hair to grey is growing, sadly in yon mirror spy—
Snow at eve that but this morning showed so glossy black!
Would you taste this life so fleeting, quickly snatch at every boon,
Leaving not the Golden Goblet glinting empty to the Moon.
Heaven has given me these talents; yea, and gave them not in vain.
Lo! a thousand golden ducats lavished greet the world again!
These roasted Sheep and Oxen slain for Someone make a feast.
Our Meeting here shall swallow down three hundred cups at least.
Now, friends, the Wine is ready: I prithee no delay.
Incline your ears to listen while I sing to you a lay.
"Of music and dainties small reck do I make.
My bliss to be Drunken, ne'er Sober to wake.
The sages of old have scarce left us a name,
The Deep Drinkers only recorded by fame.
When Ch'en Wang of old gave his feast at Pinglor,
A gallon of wine each aroused their acclaim.
The Host shall ne'er say that too small is his store,
But buy the Good Vintage and lavishly pour.
This gallant bay charger and fur coat of mine,
Now let the boy take them and change them for wine.
The Cares of the Ages, though many and sore,
Away will we scatter, and know them no more."
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
Sweet thou not the Yellow River coming from the Sky,
Downward to the Ocean flowing, never turning back
How thy hair to grey is growing, sadly in yon mirror spy—
Snow at eve that but this morning showed so glossy black!
Would tou taste this life so fleeting, quickly snatch at every boon,
Leaving not the Golden Goblet glinting empty to the Moon.
Heaven has given me these talents;
yea, and gave the world again!
These roasted Sheep and Oxen slain for Someone make a feast.
Our Meeting here shall swallow down three hundred cups at least.
Now, friends, the Wine is ready: 
I prithee no delay.
while I sing to you a lay
Incline your ears to listen 
"Of music and dainties small reck do I make.
My bliss to be Drunken, ne'er Sober to wake.
The sages of old have scarce left us a name,
The Deep Drinkers only recorded by fame.
When Ch'en Wang of old gave his feast at Pinglor,
A gallon of wine each aroused their acclaim.
The Host shall ne'er say that too small is his store,
But buy the Good Vintage and lavishly pour. 
This gallant bay charger and fur coat of mine,
Now let the boy take them and change them for wine.
The Cares of the Ages, though many and sore, away will we scatter, and know them no more."
<End Formatted Translation>