Between thirty and forty, one is
distracted
by the Five Lusts;
Between seventy and eighty, one is a prey to a hundred diseases.
Between seventy and eighty, one is a prey to a hundred diseases.
Waley - 170 Chinese Poems
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. [89]
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 T? ng Pai-tao;[90]
But to-day there is not any Wang Ts'an. [91]
All I can do is to divide them among my daughters
To be left by them to give to my grandchildren.
[89] _I. e. _, separate poems, essays, etc.
[90] Who was obliged to abandon his only child on the roadside.
[91] Who rescued a foundling.
ON BEING SIXTY
Addressed to Liu M? ng-t? , who had asked for a poem. He was the same
age as Po Chu-i.
Between thirty and forty, one is distracted by the Five Lusts;
Between seventy and eighty, one is a prey to a hundred diseases.
But from fifty to sixty one is free from all ills;
Calm and still--the heart enjoys rest.
I have put behind me Love and Greed; I have done with Profit and
Fame;
I am still short of illness and decay and far from decrepit age.
Strength of limb I still possess to seek the rivers and hills;
Still my heart has spirit enough to listen to flutes and strings.
At leisure I open new wine and taste several cups;
Drunken I recall old poems and sing a whole volume.
M? ng-t? has asked for a poem and herewith I exhort him
Not to complain of three-score, "the time of obedient ears. "[92]
[92] Confucius said that it was not till _sixty_ that "his ears obeyed
him. " This age was therefore called "the time of obedient ears. "
CLIMBING THE TERRACE OF KUAN-YIN AND LOOKING AT THE CITY
Hundreds of houses, thousands of houses,--like a chess-board.
The twelve streets like a field planted with rows of cabbage.
In the distance perceptible, dim, dim--the fire of approaching dawn;
And a single row of stars lying to the west of the Five Gates.
CLIMBING THE LING YING TERRACE AND LOOKING NORTH
Mounting on high I begin to realize the smallness of Man's Domain;
Gazing into distance I begin to know the vanity of the Carnal World.
I turn my head and hurry home--back to the Court and Market,
A single grain of rice falling--into the Great Barn.
GOING TO THE MOUNTAINS WITH A LITTLE DANCING GIRL, AGED FIFTEEN
Written when the poet was about sixty-five
Two top-knots not yet plaited into one.
