Poem For Wei Ba

Often a man's life is suchthat he seldom sees his friends,like the constellations Shen and Shangwhich never share the same sky.

If not this evening, then what eveningshould we share this lamp light?

How long can our youth and vigor last?

The hair at our temples is already gray.

We inquire about old acquaintancesto find that half are ghosts--shocked cries betraythe torment of our hearts.

How could I have knownthat it would be twenty yearsbefore I again enteredyour honored home.

When we parted lastyou were yet unmarried;now your sons and daughtersline up in a smiling rowto greet their father's friend.

They ask whence I have comebut before I can answer all questionsyou chase them offto bring wine and cups.

In the night rain, chives are cutfor the freshly steamed ricemixed with yellow millet.

Saying how difficult it has beenfor us to meet at last,you pour ten cups in a row!

But even after ten cupsI'm not drunk, being so movedby your lasting friendship.

Tomorrow we will be separatedby the peaks of mountains,each of our worldly affairslost to the other's sight.