Classic Poem

The fifth day of the New Year
was here before we knew it,
And we suddenly felt
our lives were fading fast.
Thinking of this
our hearts were moved within us,
So while we yet have time
we have come to view this spot.
The air is mild
and the heavens cloudless,
We spread our mats in order
overlooking the far stream.
Speckled bream
leapt in the slow eddies —
And crying gulls
soared in the lonely vale.
We let our eyes wander
at will over distant lowlands
And gazed with heart-felt longing
at the far-off hill of Ceng.
True, it is not as high
as the Nine-Storyed Mountain,
But no other hill commands
such loving admiration.
Raising the ewer
I call to my companions,
Draining our cups
we pledge and pledge again.
After all who knows
in the time to come
We may not ever
meet like this again.
Midway in our cups
we give rein to far-off feelings
And utterly forget
the " thousand years of sorrow. "
Let us just enjoy
this day to the utmost
And let our tomorrows
take care of themselves.