Often in this life of ours we resemble, in our failure to meet, the Shen
Shang constellations, one of which rises as the other one sets.
What luckychance is it, then, that brings us together this evening under the light ofthis same lamp?
Youth and vigor last but a little time. —- Each of us now hasgreying temples.
Half of the friends we ask each other about are dead, and ourshocked cries sear the heart.
Who could have guessed that it would be twentyyears before I sat once more beneath your roof?
Last time we parted you werestill unmarried, but now here suddenly is a row of boys and girls whosmilingly pay their respects to their father's old friend.
They ask me where Ihave come from; but before I have finished dealing with their questions, thechildren are hurried off to fetch us wine.
Spring chives are cut in the rainydark, and there is freshly steamed rice mixed with yellow millet. `Come, wedon't meet often!' you hospitably urge, pouring out ten cupfuls in rapidsuccession.
That I am still not drunk after ten cups of wine is due to thestrength of the emotion which your unchanging friendship inspires.
Tomorrowthe peak will lie between us, and each will be lost to the other, swallowed upin the world's affairs. Tu Fu (tr.
Hawkes)
